


Dead to Me

by denkiai



Series: The Fight Within (Halloween theory) [2]
Category: Halloween (1978), Halloween (2018), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Horror, Movie: Halloween (1978), theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2020-07-21 03:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19995361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denkiai/pseuds/denkiai
Summary: Both predator and prey live among the simplest forms but cannot live without the thrill of each other, a game that continues until fate intervenes and rudely rips one away. Sequel to Truth Hurts.





	1. Never Be the Same

"Grandma!" Allyson cried as she paced over to Laurie. Her heart palpitated upon the sound of the woman's scream and the heavy drop of the phone. She felt useless as the elder gripped her white-blonde locks in terror, never moving her head. Only the smallest of sobs could be heard and it was evident she was told something she didn't want to hear.

Karen felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically, but she also made her way to her mother. She hadn't even a moment to process the news and her mind felt boggled, but there was an obligation to stay strong. The woman kneeled towards the woman and was taken aback at the sight of her tears. Her blue eyes exhibited every repressed emotion she held—fear, anger, love. It was only then that she noticed Laurie was stronger than she'd given her credit for; to be a mother and a fighter was a heavy burden, but one she was loyal to. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Michael escaped," Laurie croaked, her lips trembling. She had to promise herself to not give up, but freedom wasn't plausible. If burning a house to ash with him contained in it wasn't enough, she didn't know what was or what ever would be. "He wasn't found downstairs...they checked."

"But we burned him alive!" Allyson cried in disbelief. She began to think Michael was extra-terrestrial or something out of a horrifying movie, either way he still was going to hurt Laurie until there was nothing left, and she could only hope he didn't come after her or her mother. "Where-where is he? Did they say where he is?" Her hand wiped the tears away from her tired eyes, rubbing some of her chalky mascara in the process.

"Michael left without a trace, but I'll be seeing him again and very soon," Laurie shook, wishing this tale would have ended years and years ago. It was like a game of Russian roulette, but the thrill of it drove her to ends she never knew possible and there was no certainty of living through it. Her gaze went to Karen and then Allyson. Despite the impenetrable doom, she knew she would never let him lay a finger on her family (even if it was, by blood, his as well). For so long she'd prepared, but she still felt she was at square one. "You guys need to stay safe, but I need to leave."

"No, Mom, not this again!" Karen bellowed, running a hand through her curled hair. Between the death of Ray and Allyson's friends combined her mom's continued paranoia, she felt lost with who she was or what she should do. She wished there was something to do, but this battle was her mother's and Karen could never understand. "Not this isolating yourself, not abandoning your family when we need you! Mom, I'm finally asking you to be a part of my life again," she pleaded. "Let the authorities find him."

"Baby, if it were that easy, we wouldn't be here," Laurie spoke, sounding weaker than before. "You saw for yourself and now he knows about you two. I can't let him hurt you both." She shakily stood, not knowing if her actions could live up to her words. "I need to say goodbye to Michael. This is the end."

Allyson gulped, her shoulders tensing. She'd given Laurie that same advice before he was transferred and disaster occurred, but she was clueless then. Now she knew Michael was not just a haunting memory for Laurie, but a memory of a lover and a person worthy of compassion. "Grandma, you don't have to do this alone. I want to help you," she begged, her eyes glazing over and looking to Laurie in despair. "Let me help you."

Laurie shook her head, her hands reaching out to grab the girl's shoulders firmly. "I know you want to help, but _I_ need to finish him. I want us all to be together again and if he is still out there, we will never be."

"Are you going to talk to him?" Allyson quipped, pushing one of her boots anxiously on the other. Michael was a killer and a man she would never connect with again, but she wanted to at least glance at a missing puzzle piece. As a part of his blood, she felt the need to be there. She wanted to know more, and she wanted Laurie to face her problems, not get rid of them.

The woman inhaled, the same question weighing on her mind. She always told herself he wouldn't listen and consequently, she would put her family in danger; but Michael knew they existed, and he'd come for them regardless of being his own blood. "I don't know, baby," she mused, walking away from the two as the floor creaked. Laurie blinked away the pending tears, preparing herself to go to places she'd never allowed herself in years. "I'll see your grandfather on the other side, but not now, not until I kill it."

"Mom, we all should go to bed and just call it a night, how about that?" Karen fretfully requested. She'd always known there was a soft spot for Laurie in Allyson, but this was something she didn't want her daughter to be a part of. Michael killed her husband and her mom's mental health, but through it all, she had to attempt to believe there was a different Michael that existed. That was the only way she could live with herself.

"Karen, he is out there, and he is ready for me to finally pay for what I’ve done. I'll kill that thing that killed your father."

Karen reached forward and held Laurie's shoulder, her breath shaking. "You cannot leave, and you're not risking your life just to get rid of him." She let the room seal in a weighty stillness. "John's my father and don't say otherwise. Families don't kill each other or tear each other apart."

Laurie faced Karen and stepped forward, reaching out and cupping both sides of her head. Her eyes went to the woman's that resembled Michael's so precisely and shook her head. "He was the only one you knew," she rasped. "But I know who Michael was, and he didn't want to hurt me. He never would have hurt you, or Ray, or any of us."

Karen trembled, her eyes shutting so she didn't have to look at her mom's. "How would you know? What if he fooled you from the start?" Her hands went to grip the ones holding her.

"Then he never would have loved me. He could've killed me with all the chances he was given, but he fell in love, and so did I." There was an evident crisis stirring in Karen's mind, but she refused to let her believe such lies. Laurie recognized she could never love her former husbands or anyone else because she still loved Michael and, perhaps foolishly, held onto hope she'd meet him again. "I'm asking you to understand how hard it was, to keep you at the age I was and protect you. Do as I have and keep yourself and Allyson safe."

"I-I can't, not without you." Karen took a few steps backward. A tear streamed down her pale cheek and she wiped it away with her sleeve, feeling like a child for it.

"You can because I raised you to do so. I will leave later in the morning, but I'll stay for tonight. Go to bed, both of you, and I'll find a way to make this all work."

"Grandma," Allyson begged, a tear falling along with her hopes of saving her grandmother. She wished she could understand what the elder felt.

Laurie grabbed both Karen and Allyson, pulling them into a tight embrace. As bad as she felt, it didn't amount to the loneliness she felt before, when they didn't know Michael's ties to her went deeper than just Halloween night. "I love you both, but you need to trust me. Loomis is gone, and now I'm the only one who is prepared to face it."

It was a matter of minutes until both Karen and Allyson said their good-nights and expressed their concerns. Allyson followed Karen to get some sleep, but Laurie figured that was the last thing they'd be doing.

The woman sat on the couch and made sure there were enough bullets left in her handgun and that her dagger was still sharp and ready to impale if it had to. Laurie laid back and sighed, knowing well any moment may be the last. She looked down to the tight bandage on her thigh and gulped. Strode recalled mere nights ago when she pulled the same dagger and attempted to stab Michael, but he was too strong and painfully turned her wrist at an angle, plunging it into the leg. She closed her eyes, begging her mind to focus and not scatter itself in a time she needed it to be stable. Her fingers went to her left arm and traced the first scar Michael had ever left on her. Laurie didn't need to feel the elevation of skin to know it was there because she memorized it; it would be impossible to forget.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she whispered, her chest rising and falling along with her faith. Laurie forced herself to think of her betrayal toward the troubled boy. She forced herself to think of it honestly and her emotions came flooding in like a tsunami, and she remembered feeling them all too well. What no one knew was that she wasn't scared of Michael, she was scared of what she created. "I'm sorry."

* * *

_October 27th, 1978_

Laurie shifted her head, her legs quivering and her mind racing. She leaned into the warmth next to her and held it around her like a blanket. Her breaths came out quick and short, her fingers making their way to feel the soft hair of the boy next to her. She pulled him closer and breathed quickly as she felt her bare skin against his. It had been her first time doing such a thing, but she trusted the boy whose arms she laid in. There was such a significance in the act and Laurie couldn't help but feel something had changed in her. Annie would probably have cheered her on for getting laid, but something about it didn't feel cheerful, just broodingly different. The teen shook and in a brisk motion pressed her head further into his chest.

"Hey, are you alright?" Michael questioned nervously, looking down at the blonde in concern. His heart raced as fast as hers and his hand moved to her fragile arm.

The girl's worries escaped her for a moment, and she smiled, looking up to the warm eyes staring back at her. Michael was the most precious thing to her. He cared immensely for her and was unselfish—something she wished she was. "Yeah," she chuckled, pushing the hand behind his head forward so their lips connected. Laurie's heart jumped as she felt the soft warmth of the boy and she gave a soft moan, her hands moving to Michael's bare shoulders.

She thoroughly enjoyed the experience they shared and was elated to have him and for him to have her, but at what cost? What if Laurie had given him more time before making such a commitment and he chose something different? The teen knew he was the only girl he'd met, or at least as far as she could tell, and he loved her. But Laurie knew sheer fascination played a part. They understood each other and felt a passion with the other; both were different from the rest.

"Are you alright?" Laurie asked, placing a soft kiss on the crevice of his collarbone. She felt him nod, but the girl wasn’t reassured. The girl's gaze shifted from his face to their bodies and for a moment forgot they were naked. It made her feel guilty. She was Laurie Strode—pristine and pure, and most of all, logical. Laurie felt Michael's warmer hand run along her back as if to comfort her and goosebumps covered her skin. It was hard to think about letting go of him, she didn't want to, but she felt it was a humane choice and one she'd avoided for too long.

"I love you, Michael."

Michael listened to the whisper-like sentiment and laid his cheek to the top of the girl's cheek. There was a sudden feeling of self-consciousness that flooded over him and he shifted his leg, his skin running against her flawlessness. The girl was like some gem, beautiful and above all, stood out from the rest. He had this inclination to never let go of her and hold onto Laurie until every bad part of him left. Judith was a girl, but a girl unlike Laurie, a girl unworthy of admiration.

"You're the only one I love," he said quietly and more to himself than Laurie. Michael's fingers went through her hair, but his happiness quickly dissipated when she flinched at the words rather than bask in them. "What is it?"

There was a heavy silence.

"Michael...what do you want to do?" Laurie asked, turning herself over so her stomach rested on his. Her voice sounded serious, as if she expected a difficult answer.

"About what?"

"About the world, about your life. What do you want to see or be?" The girl watched as Michael processed her words and her eyes were drawn to every detail of his features. Her fingers made their way to his cheeks and she ran her hand along his bones, trying to memorize every color and subtlety.

The boy thought of everything, but everything only led her back to one answer: her. Michael hadn't thought of an honest life where he wasn't a mental patient, only one that held him captive and to die of numbness. He had been so close to that before he met her. "You're my world, what would I want to change about that?" he answered quietly, afraid of his own honesty.

Laurie's hand halted and laid on his cheek firmly. Those would have been the sweetest words from anyone else's lips, but from Michael's it stung. It was like her own crime being shoved in her face to stare at and feel guilty about. "But what if there's a world for us to share? Outside of here, away from all these people?" She frowned and leaned down to kiss his lips for any feeling of reassurance. Once she parted, she laid her chin on his shoulder. "You could do anything you wanted. Travel, fall in love, start a family, the possibilities are endless" she paused, biting her lip. "You've been here a while, and I'm not the only one out there."

"But I do know you're the only one that matters." Michael looked to the sunset and refused to believe anything else was better. He'd never leave Smith's Grove, and even if he did, nothing would be as precious to him as her.

Laurie felt conflicted. They both should have known this wasn't right, yet they kept falling deeper. Anyone would have been better than her, because they wouldn't have taken advantage of Michael. "There's plenty who matter, you just have to meet them."

Only a breeze was heard for minutes, but both of their thoughts were loud.

The girl had made her decision after wrestling with her mind. Laurie shook her head and made herself sit up, looking over to grab her shirt. She wasn't thinking about what she wanted, she was thinking about what was right and if she didn't do this now, she never would. The girl gulped as she pulled the striped fabric over her arms. Her fingers hastily went to the buttons and she looked back to Michael who looked like a deer in headlights. It was abrupt, but she felt it had to be before it all got worse. She didn't even bother putting her bra back on, because she suddenly needed to leave.

"I-I have to go home."

The boy sat up and watched as Laurie panicked. Had he done something she didn't want? What if she made a last-minute decision? "Laurie," he grabbed the hand that was almost finished buttoning and held his breath. Michael wanted to understand. "What is it? If I did something to hurt you—"

"Michael," she interrupted. Laurie shook her head and grabbed her other articles of clothing. "You didn't, I swear," she croaked, not able to stop the tightening of her throat and the tears that followed, but she wiped them away before Michael could see.

There was a moment of silence and they both got dressed without a word. Each article of clothing felt cold and even uncomfortable on both. It was like taking a step back from all the progress they'd made.

Laurie was about to walk forward, but she couldn't. She wanted it to be an easy goodbye, to forget, but it was hard when she didn't want to. Her eyes went back to the rather dull looking Michael and it reminded her of the beginning, when he didn't say a word and never felt a thing. Laurie didn't want to lose him again. The girl's tears were provoked at the sight and she turned herself to face him. Her legs were like magnets and she had the undeniable urge to run into his arms—and she did.

Michael hadn't a moment to think before the girl's arms were wrapped around him in the firmest grip he'd ever felt. He felt her velvet lips connect with his, and this time with passion. The boy knew something was wrong or that something was going to happen, and he only wished he could change something. Once she parted, he heard her sobs and looked down to the tears that fell like streams. His arms wrapped around her with an even grip and he leaned down to rest his forehead on hers.

"What are you worried about?" he whispered.

Laurie twisted the fabric of his jacket and shook her head. He was reading her mind and she hated it. "You."

The boy removed himself from the grip and his hands cupped the girl’s cheeks, wiping her tears and forcing her eyes meet with his. "What about me?" He silently prayed she didn't know about his past, because he didn't want to be that.

"Michael, I love you, and I don't think I ever could stop, but I-I put you in a bad place," Laurie cried, holding the hands on her cheeks tightly. The boy knew no better than her, and she couldn't keep him to herself. "Fifteen years is a long time…"

Michael looked into the blue eyes staring back at him and he gently pecked her lips, seeking any ease from the touch. "But anything would be longer without you."

Laurie looked up at Michael, realizing, if she stayed true to herself, this was her last time looking at his face, feeling his touch, and hearing his voice. _I can't, I can't leave him like this, but if I didn't it would hurt even more_ , she thought to herself painfully. The girl raised herself on the tips of her toes and gingerly stacked her lips onto his. Her hands went to grab as much of his hair as they could and she savored the ribbon-like softness. Laurie felt his larger hands go around her waist and pull her body to his. He was making it harder to let go.

Michael's eyes steadily opened as their lips parted. He wished he never had to let go. The boy stared at her flushed cheeks and the soft glow of her face, one of his hands moving to place a stray hair behind her ear. "You've helped me more than anyone could." He rested his head on top of hers. "Don't go. I need you with me."

Laurie's eyes shut and her face scrunched up in pain. She needed to leave him, she had to for both of them because she wasn't his world, just a distraction. "Lets go back, Michael," she whimpered. The blonde kept her heavy eyes closed and unexpectedly felt herself being lifted from the ground with his hands under her knees and back. Laurie didn't fight it, she just laid back and attempted to savor everything about him. "Michael?"

"Yes?" he answered softly, walking back to the structure. It was the first time he'd seen the girl truly upset and it bothered him.

"Don't change. Talking suits you," she spoke, recalling an earlier time when she had said the same words. She never wanted him to feel alone or numb, even with her leaving him. If it were up to her, she'd take Michael with her and leave everything behind, but the odds were against them and perhaps they always would be, at least in this life time.

"I'll try to remember that," Michael chuckled to himself, knowing he wouldn't speak to anyone but her. He reached the sanitarium faster than he'd hoped and never let her go until they reached his room. The boy hesitantly placed her on the floor and once he made sure there was no one around, fear flooded him.

"I love you more than you know," Laurie smiled, her tears clouding her view of the handsome face in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the soft flesh of his neck, adoring the slight noise that escaped Michael's lips. The girl looked up at his expecting eyes and she gave his lips one last dance with hers. He seemed to kiss her back just as eagerly, and it made her feel even more conflicted. Once the lock ended, she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

The boy's heart broke as Laurie pulled away. He wanted to beg her to stay, for her to tell him all the things she felt, but with how little he let her be a part of, Michael felt it was fair punishment. "Goodbye, Laurie." He couldn't choke out another word, the universe told him it was only right she took off.

She shuddered. It sounded like a sin, and it was the last thing Laurie wanted to hear. The girl gave his hand a final squeeze, and she gave a fake smile. Laurie had to resist every urge she had to cry or scream and run back to him. "Goodbye, Michael." The girl made herself turn around and walk away, leaving her love behind. Laurie held a hand over her mouth as she turned a corner, the tears now flowing and trailing down her cheeks as perfect pearls.

She felt she lost him already, but the teen didn't know she took his heart, his soul, his mind, and even his life with her. Laurie's body held something of not his or hers, but theirs.


	2. Could You Ever

_November 6th, 2018_

Allyson woke to the chiming of her phone and she groaned, scorning the annoying tune for waking her so abruptly. She yawned but only opened her eyes once her fingers spent an eternity searching for the device. Her jaded eyes squinted at the screen. It was her school calling. The girl panicked, almost forgetting the past six days and the snowball of school days she missed. The teen swiped her thumb, picking up the call. "Hello?"

"Allyson, this is Mrs. Johnson, your counselor. I was just checking to see how you were doing."

Allyson scrambled for words, but none came. "Uh, I'm alright," she murmured in a gravely tone.

"Oh, okay," the voice on the line trailed doubtingly. "Well we just want you to take as much time as you need...would you like me to send all of your work to the office?" The woman sounded uncomfortable, as if she didn't know what to say.

The girl wanted to scream at the phone for bringing up homework at such a time, but she refrained. "Yes, please."

"Alright, well I hope you get some rest, Allyson. Call me if you need anything."

"I will. Bye," she blurted, not waiting for the other to speak before she hung up the phone. _So much for counselors_ , she thought to herself, but before she threw her phone to the floor, she noticed something on her screen she hadn't before: a message from her grandmother. Allyson promptly tapped on it.

_"Baby, I want you to stay strong for your mother, I know both of you are going through a lot right now and I'm sorry. I took off around 5 and I don't know when I'll be back. I am safe as of right now, but I am going to find him. Don't go back to school. Protect yourself and take some time to recover. Love you."_

She gulped, her face remaining expressionless. Allyson forgot about everything; it was like her mind shut the door on it all. She forgot school existed after Halloween night, forgot Vicky, Dave, Oscar, and even her father were all gone. The teen realized for once in her life she was alone. With her mother now a wreck and Laurie leaving to find Michael, she felt lost and she wasn't sure of who she was. Allyson wondered if this was what her grandmother felt like after losing everything forty years prior. The only difference was she knew Michael and saw him become a murderer, Allyson knew him solely as a killer.

Allyson lifted herself from her warm sheets and looked out to the sunny morning, thinking it looked unqualified in comparison to the dejection she felt. Her body stretched and removed itself from the bed, making its way down the stairs and to the main floor. The girl's fingers trailed along the grayish-green wall as she made her way to the kitchen and when she looked in, she was unsurprised to see her mom crying. She held her head in her hands and her elbows slid along the table in defeat. Allyson hesitantly knocked at the door-frame to signal she was there. "Mom, are you alright?"

Karen promptly wiped her warm tears and nodded, feeling obligated to stay strong for her daughter. "I'm fine. It-It's just your father, your grandmother." She was drained, but acknowledged Allyson needed her like she needed Laurie.

The teen nodded and made her way to her, taking a seat at the table. Allyson didn't like it at all. "I know." She cleared her throat and leaned forward, resting her head on the woman's shoulder. Allyson didn't know what else to say because she was just as speechless. "You think she's going to find him?"

"I hope not," Karen croaked, shaking her head. "All those years I never questioned her. Those times I met with Loomis and I never pieced it together."

Allyson’s hand moved to grip her mom's arm and she sighed, never seeing her so beat. She wasn't sure she'd ever had such a serious conversation with her traumatized mother. "How were you supposed to know? Maybe they both wanted to tell you." Her eyes never broke contact with her mother's. Hers were green, unlike Laurie's, and Allyson became unsettled as she realized it was a trait of Michael's.

Karen held the girl close to her and thought to herself. The more she thought, the more she realized it all was no lie; the photo Laurie had shown her was inscribed in her mind. "Doctor Loomis would have told me, but she wouldn't. He was an honest man. He tried to help me and your grandmother. Couldn't reach her, though."

Allyson broke the embrace and tried to think back to six nights ago, when she was held captive in the backseat of Hawkin's car along with Michael—an experience she never wanted to live through again. Doctor Sartain must have known, with how hellbent he was on the reunification of his patient and Laurie. He may have been a student of Loomis, but he was no doctor, just a maniac.

"I was with Michael the other night," Allyson confessed.

Karen brushed a strand of her bleached hair behind her ear and she shook her head, confused. "Allyson, what do you mean you were _with_ him?"

"His doctor: Sartain. He-He killed Officer Hawkins and dragged Michael into the backseat with me." She had already told the tale to other responding officers, but never to Karen. But something about it mattered now more than ever.

The blonde-brunette dropped her hands on the wooden surface and looked to her daughter in revelation. "You sat with him!? Why didn't you tell me any of this! Did he hurt you?" Karen's voice raised. Having Michael hunt after Laurie was bad enough, but to know her daughter's life was in evil's hands frightened her.

Allyson shook her head and she was rudely reminded why she didn't tell her mom: she would worry too much just like she always worried about insignificant things. That was what made the interaction so interesting, though. Michael never hurt her, even when staring straight at her. "No. He-he let me go."

Karen remained silent. She feared Michael knew. The woman wanted to forget, but she had no choice but to prepare just like Laurie had always prepared her. "We'll wait to hear from your grandmother. How about you lay down and I'll make breakfast."

Allyson wanted to do something about Laurie's search for Michael instead of laying down, but she didn't argue. "Alright." She internally begged for her grandmother’s safety and for her to finally end what began years ago.

* * *

"Hey Lindsey, I gotta head off!" a man's voice yelled as he walked down the stairs, pulling on his jacket. His fingers went through his ginger locks and gave a sigh, preparing himself to go to work. He began to whistle and made his way into the monochrome kitchen where his wife stood, a nervous look plastered on her face.

"Alright," the brunette muttered, leaning against the counter. She gulped as her thumb swept through headlines of _Haddonfield Killer Escapes_ , _Michael Myers Returns_ , and it unnerved her. Lindsey listened to the television in the living room and heard something along the lines of Michael Myers dying in some fire, but she didn't believe it. "This Michael Myers stuff. I just can't believe he's still at it."

The man grabbed his keys, but his feet were planted to the floor. Both him and his wife knew that name all too well and they wished they didn't have to remember. "Why do you think he came back for her?" he carefully interrogated.

The woman looked back to her husband and shrugged, evidently perturbed. "Maybe he didn't like that she beat him. I just worry about her nowadays...she came back, but I heard she was sick." Lindsey turned toward the man and frowned. "Everyone said she was a little twisted in the brain ever since."

He nodded, looking off into the granite counter-tops. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but even if she was sick, she was still a hero. "She's probably afraid. Who wouldn't be?"

Lindsey seemed to take that as good enough of an answer and she walked toward the red-head, giving him a warm hug and a peck on the cheek. "Don't forget to pick up Alyssa after school, her car is still at the shop."

"I promise, honey. Have a good day.” The man waved and walked away from her, making his way to the door. His whistling continued and his keys jingled a tune as he shut the door, but once he turned his head, he found himself staring into the distance at a black pickup truck. It moved at an eerily slow pace and seemed to have come with a goal. He gulped. If it was Michael, he was unprepared; he and his wife weren't ready to face him again.

* * *

Laurie's hands turned the steering wheel and she found herself driving to places she thought she'd never see again. She gazed at the sign that read Lampkin Lane and dread filled her. It was the street she lived near, as well as her friends and all the kids she knew in the small town. The woman progressed at a mere five miles per hour and stared at every residence. It wasn't long until she saw her old home, and it appeared empty. Laurie wondered if anyone lived there anymore, or if anyone bought the residence after her parents' death. Everyone called the whole street haunted and she doubted many people wanted to stay with how wide-spread the story was. If investigative journalists approached her, she wondered how many more were out there trying to find any reasoning.

Laurie bit her lip and leaned forward, finally coming to a stop when she found the home she wanted. "45," she muttered to herself, knowing it was a suicide mission to be there. 45 Lampkin Lane was where the childhood home of Michael Myers laid vacant and deteriorating. The woman removed her foot from the brakes and turned left into the driveway of the haunted site. There was a part of her that prayed he was there, but she knew Michael was no fool. If he wanted to strike, it wouldn't be in broad daylight.

The woman always thought of it fortuitous that both attacks were on Halloween, and it made it unnerving trying to decipher if he'd make a move any other day. No one knew Michael's face, and if he truly wanted to hide, he could easily fit in with the crowd and that was a haunting thought. Laurie let her mind empty itself before she made her way to the porch, where every step felt like a step closer to fate. She gulped as the wooden boards creaked and the now shattered windows stared at her menacingly. It had further plummeted into a depressing plaster and clapboard construction.

"Michael?" the woman called, not expecting anything to come from it. Laurie leaned down and kept her eyes open as she lifted the porch mat, wondering if the key was even there anymore, but it was just wishful thinking.

The blonde walked away from the washed-out door and went to the windows, avoiding the shards of glass that laid on the floor. Laurie's heeled boot shoved debris to the side and she closed her eyes preparedly before leaning down to inspect the interior. She squinted, but even her glasses couldn't help her. The house in daylight was so dark, and nothing remained except some ripped carpet that had seen better days.

"Where are you," Laurie whispered, trying to draw any lead, but it was obvious Michael was not home and no one else had been since the Myers family.

After the moment of anticipation passed, she gave up and elected on either visiting Smith's Grove or the Haddonfield police station. All night Laurie had stayed up trying to formulate some plan that would take her right to Michael, but the best way of doing that was retracing every step. She wanted to know more about Michael's life after Halloween of 1978 and digging to the root of Sartain's interest in him seemed to be the only way. Laurie turned around and made her way back to her truck, unlocking the car hastily.

"Tourist trying to uncover the truth behind the babysitter murders?" A voice called out, watching as Laurie opened the door to the vehicle. The man had continued to watch her from his porch, but when he saw her go to Michael's, his curiosity got the best of him.

The noise was enough to make Laurie jump and immediately her hand dove into her pocket to grab her gun. She held it tight and turned around, pointing it at the male, but she realized he was not a threat, just an innocent civilian. The woman internally swore at herself for being so susceptible.

The man backed up and held his hands forward, his eyes widening. "Hey, I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to intrude," he stuttered.

Laurie put the gun down and she squinted her eyes, cocking her head. There seemed to be something familiar about him and she moved forward, intrigued. For being some stranger, he seemed quite fascinated by the house and her. "The babysitter murders? That's what they call it now?" She slowly put her gun back in the pocket and inspected his features.

He had green eyes, copper hair, and a rather innocent look on his pale face. "Yes. I had a friend who survived. Was able to escape an attack from the serial killer thanks to her." The male studied the attributes of her and found he also felt some connection to the woman's face. The red-head hesitantly dropped his hands to his side. He wondered if she was affected by Myers somehow, seeing as she was armed and invested in the house.

Laurie dipped her fingers in her jean pocket and continued to gaze. She thought of whose eyes they reminded her of and suddenly, it all made sense. At first she thought it couldn't be, but the name came to her head like a blinding sign.

"Tommy?" the woman blurted.

His eyes widened and he gave a small nod. "How-how did you—" the red-head cut himself off and shock filled him. "Laurie!?"

The woman's eyes widened and she found herself walking to him. Laurie's mouth opened slightly; it was the same boy she babysat, just forty years aged. He had the slightest bit of gray stubble on his chin, but it was undoubtedly Tommy. "Oh my god…Tommy Doyle. I thought you would've moved out of here."

Tommy gave a wide smile, elated that Laurie was alright, especially after hearing of Michael's return. There were still so many unanswered questions. "I planned on it, but my parents passed years ago. Kept the house and stayed with Lindsey." He shook his head, still unable to believe it. "I thought you were gone. I heard so many different stories after you left, but I never knew if I believed any of them."

Laurie nodded, understanding she had left Tommy with nothing but a secret before she left. "You shouldn't have. They were all lies."

Tommy made a small hum, figuring it was so. He looked to the older woman and gazed at the wrinkles on her face, noting she was tired. "Well, was it a boy or a girl?" the man asked softly, a grin on his face. Ever since the day she told him she was pregnant, he never forgot about her or wondered where she was or what she was doing.

She smiled in return. "Girl. Karen's her name. I have a granddaughter as well. Allyson." Laurie watched as Tommy's face lit up.

"That's wonderful, Laurie! Lindsey and I, well, we have a son and a daughter. Josh is in his freshman year of college and Alyssa is in her senior year of high school." Tommy smiled, noting the woman's surprise.

"You and little Lindsey Wallace? My gosh, you two! Well, congratulations! How is she?" Laurie chuckled, forgetting the situation at hand for just a moment. She always knew Lindsey had a little crush on Tommy, but she would have never guessed they would stay together. The woman assumed the tragedy of it all brought them closer.

"She's doing fine, How's Bennett doing? That's his name right?"

Laurie arched a brow. "Bennett? Bennett who?" There had to have been some warp in the tale. All of Haddonfield felt they had to make some story about it, but the sibling theory always prevailed.

Tommy blushed, realizing it was probably a rumor he’d believed. "Oh, I'd heard Bennett Tramer went off with you after '79, I assumed he was the father. No one heard from him after and, well, I thought that was the reason."

The woman was amazed at how far-fetched it was. She hadn't even remembered her silly crush on Bennett Tramer. "It wasn't Bennett."

"So I really don't know what happened after, huh?" He tapped his foot against the cement and motioned to the house to avoid a potentially upsetting conversation. "Still trying to figure out who he is? I heard he was out again, had all of Haddonfield spooked. Crazy how it's still going on."

Laurie gulped, wondering if Mr. and Mrs. Doyle had even said a thing to him. She thought Tommy would have known everything and piece it together. "Your parents never told you why I couldn't see you anymore, did they?"

Tommy shook his head, growing confused. He thought it was a simple story, but it proved to be more complex than just an attack and prematurely having a child. "No, they just said they were disappointed about the pregnancy. Thought you were a bad influence."

"Did they tell you that I was the one that put you in danger?"

The male cocked an eyebrow. "How could you have? You saved Lindsey and I." He remembered screaming across the street with Lindsey and briefly glancing at the motionless masked man on the floor before leaving Laurie behind.

The blonde sighed, looking to the sidewalk, unsure of how to confess for the third time in two days. "I did, but Michael came because of me." Laurie out of the corner of her eye saw Tommy's muddled expression. "He was my," she paused, "friend at the time, but things didn't go right and I left. I didn't know I was pregnant until that night."

Tommy's skin tingled and was immediately filled with doubt. Michael killed his sister at a young age which meant he was a killer his whole life. "How could he have been your friend? Unless he spoke, I don't think it's possible."

"He did, but to me only. No one believed me until they knew about my daughter. That's why I always went to Smith's Grove," she stated coldly, trying not to attach any emotion.

"Michael is the father!?" The man gasped, his jaw nearly to his chest. It seemed biologically impossible to know that below that cold masked face was a man with a daughter. Tommy wondered if it was some delusion caused by trauma, but she was obviously scarred by it. Laurie had never let him down and she took the situation seriously, so why would she lie? "You mean you two—"

"Yes," Laurie blurted. She remained quiet and let Tommy process it all and once he seemed collected enough, she spoke. "I thought I killed Michael last week, but he escaped. You said you have children, Tommy?"

"Um, yeah, a son and a daughter." He looked to the woman innocently, still flabbergasted.

"Protect them...protect them until I finish what I need to." She stated plainly, her voice indicative of her age. Laurie watched as Tommy gave a slow nod.

The red-head couldn't believe it, but he would take any order from Laurie. Taking orders from her is what saved him from Michael, and he couldn't imagine a world where his children were among a liberated killer. "You can't be serious. How do you know it's safe to take him on again?"

Laurie smiled. "I don't. But that's just the thrill of it." _Not that I find this fun_ , she thought to herself, her boot tapping the Myers' driveway. "He may return, but if I can stop what I created, I'm okay with whatever happens to me."

Tommy nodded, not wanting that to be her fate, but he couldn't say no to her. He was too shocked by how deep her relationship ran with the psychopath and he didn't blame her for feeling such guilt. The man couldn't help but feel guilty for being so young and naive about brushing it off as ‘just the boogeyman’. "Thank you, Laurie, for saving me again. I-I'm sorry it all happened this way." Tommy deeply inhaled, wondering if this was truly the last he'd see of the woman. "If Michael knows what's right, I think he'll set you free."

"We can only hope." Laurie muttered, placing a hand on the red-head's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Doyle."

He nodded. "You as well, Laurie."


	3. Tread Carefully

Allyson had been sprawled out on the couch for hours thinking of something to do to help her grandmother or attempt to go to school for any normality, but between her mom's stringent rules and the paranoia of Michael's hunt for Laurie, she found nothing. She was left to her own thoughts and it led her to Michael. It was like living under a rock and being released into the wild, the vast and frightening wild. Allyson didn't know how she was to deal with it, her murderous grandfather killing her friends and father. It was hard to stare at photos of her father and imagine his laugh. Simple things such as him building mouse traps became moments she wished she still had.

The girl yawned but couldn't dwell on the past for long once her phone buzzed. She threw the fleece blanket she herded in off herself and seized the device in hopes it would be Laurie telling her she was fine. Allyson glanced to the name and her hope morphed into irritation. She forgot about her so-called boyfriend, Cameron Elam, who she last saw at the school Halloween party cheating on her with Kim, some girl dressed in a skimpy tigress bustier. The teen recollected him drunkenly grabbing her phone and throwing it into a bowl full of nacho cheese and the cops showing up to remove everyone from the dance shortly after. But Cameron, being the juvenile he was, fought both officers and gathered a crowd. He was arrested and Oscar left the party with her. It had taken days to clean the cheese from the phone's ports, but it magically worked, and she was grateful.

Allyson wondered if she was at fault for trusting an Elam. The family was known for running their mouths and being overall odd in comparison to all of Haddonfield's residents. Her father and mother knew Lonnie Elam all too well and he'd never been a saint. Regardless of the boy’s faults, she opened the text out of curiosity, just to see what excuse he came up with and if it deserved a reply.

_"Hey Allyson, I got out of the police station a few days ago, my dad was pissed and I couldn't text anyone. I'm at school right now, you haven't been here in days. I'm sorry about Kim and about all the boogeyman shit. I believe you, I'm sorry I never did. Just please call me or text me, I'm so worried about you."_

Allyson rested her hand on her lips and considered her options. She wanted so badly to believe him, to have his shoulder to still lean on, but she didn't want to deal with the hurt of him leaving her. The girl was about to delete the text and forget she ever received it, but she had an idea. If Cameron was able to pick her up, she could leave the house and try to find her grandmother, perhaps even find any redemption in Cameron in the process. Her fingers frantically tapped the keyboard. Class ended in a few minutes and he could reach her home quickly.

_"I'm fine, can you please pick me up? We can talk then."_

"Hey Allyson, I'm going to go to the store real quick, I'd feel better if you came with me," Karen called, walking into the living room as her daughter slammed her phone face down. She would have let her be any other day, but she wasn't going to put her daughter's life in harm's way. The woman wanted to be prepared if the worst were to come, even if it meant living with the fact she was becoming much like her apprehensive mother.

She bit her lip, this wasn't going according to plan. If she was going to find Laurie, she needed to escape, and the perfect opportunity was only if she was alone. Allyson tried not to think of the emotional pain it would cause her mom; Laurie's life was precious to her and she wanted them to be together. "Mom, I'm really tired and I just-I just don't feel like going out. I'll be safe here, I promise."

Karen sighed. She understood the feeling of wanting to stay home, but she felt herself now understanding Laurie for raising her in such a protective way. "Sweetie, I don't know if I want you to be alone," she refuted, not wanting to make her daughter feel worse than she probably was. She'd seen her look at pictures of Ray on her phone and cry to herself, and it hurt. The woman wanted her husband back and her mother back, but both were gone. Karen never knew she'd feel so lost without her husband who pulled her out of the paranoia Laurie instilled in her.

She missed her father, John, but all night and morning she stared at the photo of Michael and her mom. Karen initially hated it, but as a psychiatrist, she had empathy and recognized everything her mother went through was a test to her strength. The more she thought of Michael's previous circumstances and how fondly he had thought of Laurie, the more she could find humanity in him. Karen had no doubt the body of Michael Myers was no longer functioning as a human being, but her heart swelled at the thought there was more and there was a boy that was her father not out of hate or evil, but love. She would fall in love with the thought, filling in the missing blanks in her life, but then remembered Ray’s death and went back to square one.

"Mom, trust me, I'll be fine," Allyson smiled. She hated lying to her mom like this.

Karen bit her lip and nodded. "Fine, just don't open any doors, and please keep your ears and eyes open. Call me or text me if you need anything." She trusted her daughter enough to know she was strong, and she hoped she was right by letting her stay. The woman couldn't lose yet another family member.

The girl nodded, "I will." She watched as her mom leaned down to kiss her warm forehead and gulped. It was scary, and it felt awful to betray her mother, but she loved Laurie too much to let her hunt for Michael alone. Allyson waved to her mom and didn't move a muscle until she heard the car move from the driveway. When she stood, her limbs felt weak, but she forced herself to wake up and prepare to fight back whatever she had to. Allyson knew she was a Strode woman and she wanted to live up to that title.

She ran her fingers through her messy ginger locks and sighed in relief at the sound of a car pulling into her driveway.

* * *

The sun began to lay low on the skyline and the leaves brushed against the cement in protest. Cool winds swept the town and as night approached, Laurie's will to find Michael only magnified.

The woman found herself walking toward the glass door with Haddonfield Police Department printed on it, but she hadn't a clue what she wanted. She assumed she'd try to find Sheriff Barker or anyone that could lead her to any truth. Laurie's hand froze upon contact with the handle and she opened the door swiftly, not caring if it shut just as swift. She looked around and adjusted her glasses. It was as if all eyes were on here and it reminded her of going back to school quickly after Halloween night; when acquaintances became strangers dubbing her Laurie Strode the freak.

"May I help you, ma'am?" The receptionist asked cautiously.

She shook and turned around, looking at the tired brunette woman in front of her. "I need to see Sheriff Barker."

"About?" she inquired, as if she didn't think the woman was worth her time.

"Michael Myers," Laurie replied bitterly, the name like ice.

The officer promptly displayed concern and nodded her head, her attitude taking a drastic change. "We have two other witnesses giving interviews right now, would you be okay waiting for just a sec?"

The woman arched a brow. "Witnesses?" It seemed improbable that there'd be any left.

"From Halloween night, surviving victims. We've had to re-examine them given some unfortunate circumstances," she stated, writing on a clipboard, afraid she'd said too much. "Name, miss?"

Her curiosity peaked at the word _surviving_.

"Laurie Strode." She wasn't the least bit surprised to be recognized instantly. Everyone in Haddonfield knew her name along with Michael's, but nearly no one knew their story. Their story wasn't for some show, some profit, because it was very real to Laurie and it cost her more than the town knew.

"Barker should be with you in a few minutes," her voice shook, cowering. Any fears she had of oversharing left her because she was positive the woman knew everything regarding Michael’s escape from her own home.

Laurie nodded and took a seat, avoiding any stares that came her way. She thought she'd have to wait to get any closer to Michael, but the door to the offices had been cracked just enough for her to pick up voices. The woman focused and tried to hone in. It was apparent they were, in a way, victims of Michael seven nights ago. The first voice she heard was a child's, then a frightened mother's.

"Laurie Strode," the Sheriff's unmistakably deep voice called. He carefully watched the woman as she rose from her seat, unsurprised to see her face again Laurie made her way into the back, pushing aside the taller man.

She quietly stood outside of the room and listened to the foul-mouthed boy's testimony.

"Laurie what the he—"

"Shut up," she replied coldly, leaning her head closer to the door. Her arm remained held out to keep him from stopping her.

"He just went whoosh and fuckin' stabbed Vicky! I tried to run away, but I came back to save her and his creepy ass mask was staring back at me! I tried to be brave! I tried!" the younger voice pleaded, obviously comfortable in his word choices.

"I know you did, Julian. Thank you for your honesty. We need you to know you will be okay. I'll take you back to your parents," the male officer replied, but Laurie could hear his insecurity in the answer. The kid wasn't safe, no one was.

Laurie watched as the child walked out of the office, tears welling up in his eyes. Her heart ached and she felt immense guilt as the boy stared back at her. She wished she could save him, but there was no guarantee she'd be able to end Michael's rampage.

"Laurie, I'm going to kindly ask you to follow me and mind your business." Barker gave a fake smile with annoyance clearly in his eyes.

The woman squinted her eyes and shook her head. "My business? This is my business, you know that." Laurie took a few steps forward, listening to the other witness. She wasn't going to let it go because she wanted anything to understand the evil, and she was in luck.

"Kate, I'd like you to tell me what you found when you came home that night."

"G-Gina, I had her nanny my b-baby girl for the night. I came home and in the kitchen, she—she," Kate had herself so overwhelmed she couldn't finish.

"Take your time."

"Her head. Smashed in, I-I found the hammer on the floor. There were bloody boot prints going to my baby's crib."

Laurie's breath hitched and she closed her eyes. She was petrified, but she thought she knew where she was going with it. The woman felt her anger boil within.

"The trail turned to the crib, but I-I looked in and she was safe. He looked at her and left my baby girl alone," she wept, sounding even thankful for Michael's sudden ethical decision.

Laurie couldn't breathe, but after those words escaped her head raced. It wasn't the answer she expected and wasn't the one she prepared for. Michael could go off and kill teens, kill mothers, but he couldn't manage to kill one crying infant? Was there even a reason? Was it a decision made by the Michael she knew or did evil itself have its limits?

"Come with me before you kill yourself with worry, Miss Strode." The sheriff grabbed the woman's arm but this time there was zero resistance. He pulled her into the same room he interrogated her in the day before. "Sit down."

Laurie did as she was told. She sat, but her mind filled itself with questions. The woman took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, unable to accept what Kate had said. "What the hell aren't you telling me?" She gazed at the officer. "I am not going to stop. Not now and not until Michael is gone, that is my oath to myself and my family. I'm not running away from this, so tell me what I don't know, Barker, because I know there's more."

"We've got it covered, just go home. You wanted to free yourself and now you can. This is our problem now." He tried to reassure her, but Laurie was stubborn and it was not an acceptable answer.

"If you had it covered then why is he gone!? Why would Michael kill everyone he did save for one child?" she shouted, slamming her hands on Barker's desk. Laurie took a deep breath, refraining herself from going further into a fit of rage in front of the man.

Barked nodded understandingly, taking his hat off and placing it on the slab of wood. "What do you want from me?"

It was a simple question, but he wondered if it would be the right choice to tell her anything further than what she knew. He wished she hadn't heard the woman's account, because it was pivotal.

"I want the truth and I want to know about Ranbir Sartain. I never focused on Michael's life after Loomis resigned as his doctor after '79, I had a daughter to take care of. I didn't want to worry about what inhumane thing was left."

The man considered it was fair enough. Laurie Strode was the only living person who knew more about Michael than Doctor Sartain and Loomis.

"Doctor Ranbir Sartain couldn't become Michael's doctor until after Loomis was gone, but that sure as hell didn't stop him from visiting Myers, unbeknownst to his mentor." Barker tensed, bracing himself for Laurie's sake for what came next. "Ms. Strode, the truth is Michael knows he has a daughter. He knows her name, he knew her age and he was told by Sartain himself in March of 1988. The man wanted to experiment with him, get any reaction he could, but law prohibited him from going to extremes. You weren't the only one who took pleasure in his escape. Ranbir wanted you to see Michael again. Not sure if he expected a blood bath or for unspoken words to be said, but his fate was decided by Myers." He paused, letting the information become imbibed by the woman. "It is my prognosis that Michael saved that witness's child because he felt some sort of empathy or some parallel between you and his own daughter."

Laurie rubbed her temple and shut her eyes tight. Michael knew about Karen. He knew ten years late, but nonetheless knew she carried their daughter and because of that had some type of deranged moral compass. Babies were off limits to the killer, and she wondered if Barker was right. There was some part of Michael that respected her for raising their child, and the beginning of one's life may have even been worth something to him. Was Michael not dead, but buried under the evil within?

She couldn't help but to think back to Karen and the first time she'd asked about Michael.

* * *

_July 24th, 1984_

It had been a long day of baking, shopping, and playing, but Laurie wouldn't have had it any other way. She'd just finished summer semester exams and was happy to spend any time with Karen on her birthday. She turned five; it'd been almost six years since Halloween night of '78 and Laurie was struggling, but never dwelled so she could care for her daughter. Laurie loved Karen immensely, she was her world, but there were times when it was hard not having another shoulder to lean on. It was hard looking at the girl and knowing she had a father, but one she couldn't see and would hopefully never know. She dreamed of how nice it would've been if Michael could've been with her, but it was unrealistic.

"Can I have another piece of cake?" Karen asked innocently as her mother brushed her hair. She leaned back, resting against her and stared in the mirror. The girl felt herself relax as Laurie gently ran the bristles against her scalp.

Laurie chuckled and shook her head, laying down the brush. "I think you've had enough, baby. It's about time we both go to bed." The girl ran a hand over Karen's ribbon-like locks and watched as the girl slid herself off the vanity chair. She yawned and followed the pink bathrobe of the little girl in front of her. Laurie watched as the girl threw herself onto her bed and stared at her, a smile on her face. "What is it?" the girl chuckled, going on her knees at Karen's bedside.

"Mommy, how old are you?" she questioned innocently.

Laurie arched a brow and watched as her daughter's eyes beamed, waiting for an answer. "I'm twenty-three, why?" She again chuckled, wondering why Karen held a sudden interest in it.

"You're old," Karen said teasingly. Her fingers went to the tassel of her robe. She didn't mean it, she knew her mom was actually quite young in contrast to other moms she'd seen, but she never questioned Laurie.

"Yeah?" Laurie smiled. "Well you're older!" She reached out to tickle Karen and reveled in the girl's playful screams and chuckles. The woman pretended to grab a strand of her hair and held it for Karen to see. "Look you've already got a white hair!"

"Liar!" the child tittered at the imaginary hair and pushed her mom's hand away. Karen remained silent and stared at her mom. She was beautiful, like some angel, and she wasn't like the moms she saw in stores, on the streets. The girl had taken notice her age wasn't the only thing that made her different, however.

In every story she'd read, every show she'd watched, and in any place she went she always saw a father. The father and the mother always helped each other, and the father loved his children as much as the mother. It was never something that bothered her until she saw it more; she realized she'd never had one.

"Karen, baby, what's wrong?" Laurie asked worriedly, pulling a couple stray hairs from her face. She tucked them behind her ears and watched as the girl thought.

She at first hesitated, but then found the will to speak. "Do I have a daddy?"

The girl's heart sank. It was the last question she'd prepared herself to hear. Laurie gnawed on her bottom lip and broke eye contact, looking to the floor to find an answer. She wasn't aware Karen thought about it or that it was hurting her, but Laurie supposed she would become suspicious at some point, she just never guessed it would happen so soon. She looked back to her daughter's expecting green eyes, Michael's eyes. "Of course you do. Everybody has a daddy."

The brunette noted her mom didn't seem safe talking about it, but her curiosity didn't want to be ignored. So many questions she had internalized and now she had the chance to ask. "Does he love me?" Karen asked shyly, feeling glum. Of all her questions that was always the one that prevailed and made her feel less than herself.

Laurie gently pulled Karen into her lap and wrapped her arms around her securely. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her daughter's, trying to find the strength to say anything. There was no explicit answer, but something told her to think of the loving Michael that existed and the one that made her. The blonde gave a faint smile to herself and nodded. "Of course he loves you." She didn't feel like it was a lie, the only lie was her actual father died when evil took place of the mundane.

"Will I ever meet him?" her small voice mumbled. The girl's heart bubbled in excitement. She wanted to know who he was and where he was.

"I–I don't know," Laurie sighed, succumbing to doubt. She'd met a guy, John, but she wasn't too far into the relationship and didn't want to make her daughter any guarantees. "Maybe one day. Now get some sleep, baby." The girl pecked her cheek, feeling remnants of guilt.

Karen nodded and laid back down, letting her mom pull her blankets over her. "Can you tell me a story?"

"Which one?" Laurie chuckled, having told the girl so many. The only stories she refused to tell her daughter were boogeyman stories. She didn't want her daughter to worry, but not because the boogeyman was fake; she knew he was very real.

"Corduroy," she gave a cheeky grin. The girl watched as her mom stood and grabbed the book from her ever-growing collection. "Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can you lay with me?" Karen asked timidly. For some reason she didn't want to be alone, she just wanted to be protected by Laurie. It'd been a few days since they spent time together and she wanted to make every minute worth it.

The girl smiled. "Of course I can." She made her way to the toddler and laid back, lifting one arm until Karen rested on her chest. After Laurie secured her daughter in her arms she began to read aloud until Karen drifted off. Laurie felt as if she'd been rambling or talking forever, and when she finished the girl successfully remained asleep.

Laurie gently closed the book and laid it to the side. She stared at the smaller body on top of her and felt the soft rise and fall of her diaphragm. The blonde felt guilt for leaving her fatherless and she began to focus on Michael, but it hurt more than it usually did. This child was Michael's, but he was gone and he'd never be able to see her, hold her, or love her. Laurie couldn't resist the scalding tears that ran down her cheek and she couldn't stop the sobs that followed. She held a hand over her mouth to stifle them, but she couldn't stop. That was the one thing she could never give her daughter: the love of a father.

"I'm sorry, baby," the girl whispered in between tears. Laurie leaned forward to kiss her daughter's forehead, never leaving her side.


	4. Stuck in Time

"Hey, what's up?" Cameron Elam queried, watching his girlfriend pull herself into his vehicle. He noted the troubled expression on her face and once the door shut, he reversed the machine.

Allyson sighed and leaned her head against the cold glass of the window. "A lot, just a lot right now," she grumbled, clicking her seatbelt tightly. The girl moved her fingers to the foggy window and began drawing random figures. She was pleased to be leaving home, even if her mom would come to find she was aimlessly wandering without any means of protection.

"Oh, yeah, I-I know," he stuttered. The boy made a right turn, driving without any destination in mind. He was desperate to prove himself to Allyson and fix anything that had happened Halloween night, but he was also willing to support her. Cameron was devastated to learn about Oscar's death as well as Vicky and Dave's. "Can't believe your grandma actually killed him...that's kinda badass," he shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

The girl choked on the air, for it wasn't the truth. She hated to admit it, but evil had no bounds, and evil never died. "Michael Myers isn't dead."

Cameron arched a brow and looked to the girl in disbelief, hoping she too hadn't gone psycho like her grandmother. "Um, then why is it all over the news? My dad was reading the paper today, it said ‘ _Laurie Strode Kills Boogeyman_ ’ or something."

"Cameron, I know," she sighed, "but they haven't told the public. We got the call last night. The house burned down but he didn't."

"You weren't, like, in the house, were you?" he asked cautiously, ignorant of the killer’s escape.

Allyson slowly nodded, staring at the far-from-clean carpeting of the car that smelled of gin and tobacco. "I was."

"My god, did he hurt you!?" Cameron seethed, though he knew he didn't stand a chance against the boogeyman. He always heard stories of Laurie Strode. His father told him of his own encounter with Michael Myers. His father, Lonnie Elam, had run into Michael as a child, and he only recalled the emotionless face waiting at the school gate.

She wondered if she should tell him, or if she could tell him. "No...no he didn't." But there had to be a reason for that, and that reason was clear: she was his granddaughter. "I–I was with Oscar and I left him. When I came back, he was dead." If she'd just gotten over the fact he kissed her, she thought, perhaps his life might have stood a chance.

"Okay, but like, you know that's not your fault, right? That was the fucking psycho's fault." Cameron gave a fake chuckle, becoming nervous. He only wanted the girl to be okay, but he couldn't save her from being bred into an unfortunate scenario. Every generation of the Strode family suffered the second-hand trauma of Laurie.

"Cameron, Oscar kissed me. He kissed me right before Michael got him, told me not to tell you," Allyson blurted. She hoped some part of Cameron could forgive his dead friend. Oscar suffered from his own insecurities. He was sweet, comical, but he searched for validation from others.

Cameron bit his lip, stopping with traffic. Had his irritating buddy been alive, he would have found him and killed him himself, but there was nothing he could do. He wanted Allyson to like him again. "He probably just wanted attention or some shit, you know how his folks are. I'm pissed, but the poor dude was impaled."

Allyson gave the boy a quizzical look. "I'm surprised," she gave a small laugh, "good." She slid her frigid fingers off the cold glass and into her lap.

"Are you okay, though? I mean, not to trespass on personal stuff, but your grandma is like a Haddonfield celebrity. You were in the middle of it all, I-I'm just glad you're okay." He shook, not being able to imagine a world without the girl. Though he'd already screwed Allyson over, Cameron wanted to be a good boyfriend in a time she needed him.

"Cameron, can I tell you something?" Allyson felt a weight on her chest. She wanted someone else to listen.

The brunette looked to the girl. "Of course you can." The boy rested his hand on the leather-top of the console between them and hoped she'd grab it.

Allyson looked to the pale hand but move hers. What if he thought of her as a monster too? "Michael Myers, he-he's my grandfather."

There was a hanging silence and Cameron sat uncomfortably. At first, he considered it, but found it ludicrous; there wasn't even a chance of it happening. He looked to the girl and gave a pained laugh. "Okay, you're seriously funny, Allyson."

The girl became enraged. Was she not able to express her feelings to Cameron without messing it up somehow? "Cameron, I'm not fucking with you!" she yelled, making him flinch.

"Okay okay okay," he scurried to fix his previous statement. The boy fidgeted his fingers on the wheel. He wanted to believe her, but it seemed too crazy to believe; if Laurie hated the man so much there wasn't a chance there was more. "Could you just explain to me? I mean I don't get how that's remotely plausible."

"My grandma knew Michael when he was still a patient at Smith's Grove back in '78."

"Like as a friend or what? How would that have worked?"

Allyson leaned back, accepting the fact perhaps no one would believe her. Laurie was the only one who could make her feel less alone. She loved Laurie and trusted her, as well as craved her protection from a man she used to know so well. "A friend at first. Some nurse kept it a secret because she wanted to believe Michael was improving."

"Wait so you're honestly telling me Laurie Strode fucked Michael fucking Myers?" he yelled, prying his eyes from the road. It wasn't that he was mad at Allyson, but he was shocked. The whole idea seemed impossible, but the more he thought about it the more truth he found, and it frustrated him.

Allyson rolled her eyes. "For lack of a better word, yes. She did."

"So why did he go all psycho on her and her friends?"

"She broke up with him." The girl bit her lip, empathizing with Laurie. "Realized it was wrong for her to go behind his doctor's back, her parent's, everyone's. She thought she was being egotistical about it...but I think that's bullshit."

"And why doesn't all of Haddonfield know this?" Cameron asked innocently.

"Maybe she felt guilty. I know she felt responsible for everything he has done since." It was a question she couldn't answer.

The boy nodded, accepting the madness of it all. "You officially have a more fucked up family than me, boogeyman's granddaughter." The brunette looked to her saddened face and gulped, wishing he hadn't labeled her as such. "Sorry, I'm an asshole. For what it's worth, he must've been hot, because you're gorgeous as hell."

"Cameron! Shut the fuck up, okay?" Allyson took a deep breath, not wanting him to look at her differently. "That thing, that evil that's out there, that's _not_ my grandfather."

"So you're accepting this? Nothing is at all wrong with it?"

The teen shrugged. "I mean obviously it's all fucked up, but I-I never grew up with a clue as to who my grandfather was. My mom never knew who the hell she was until last night. It's like finding a part of you you never knew existed."

The boy's hands drummed against the wheel. He understood. There was nothing he could fix for her, but Cameron wanted to prove himself to her. Whether she was Michael's blood or not, Cameron loved her, and she was all he had left.

"Well, what do you need from me?"

Allyson moved her gaze to the window. "I need you to take me to my grandmother. I need to help her."

* * *

There was an uncomfortable buzzing in Laurie's pocket, but she refused to look. It had happened nearly eight times and each seeming more desperate than the last, but she couldn't answer. If she told them what she was doing, they'd follow. This was now or never, and she had a family that had a lot of living to do. Laurie was petrified but prepared for death. She would sacrifice herself, even if it meant giving Allyson and Karen up.

The sky was black with cowering stars staring at the highway as the truck moved. The woman wondered if Michael was following her. Laurie was the reason for everything, she was the catalyst, and the obsession of the wicked; it made her want to jump from her vehicle and scream out to Michael to end it all. But Laurie wasn't as selfish as to end her suffering and pass it to those she loved.

Smith's Grove was now her destination. Laurie set no expectations for what she'd find, she just hoped Michael would be dead before the sun rose and that Haddonfield would rejoice in the absence of the notorious killer. Her hands gently circled the steering wheel and her phone went dead. The woman wanted to understand how, in such a free state, Michael chose to act as if he were in captivity. There had been no fatalities yet, but there was no guarantee it would remain as such.

Ten minutes passed before Laurie was able to pull into the driveway of Smith's Grove, the one she remembered the same as before. She found it ironic that she once walked to that door in excitement and now she walked to it in fear. The blonde promised herself one last swig of whiskey before she made her venture in.

"Michael, come out wherever you are," she trembled. Laurie slid herself out of the car and shut the door, only to face another. There was a dim light in the structure and for a second, she contemplated leaving, but she came too far to quit. She lived for stopping Michael and whether she was the winner or loser, she'd end this game. Her legs led her to the entrance, and she walked in apprehensively, finding only one person at the reception desk.

"May I help you?" a man who appeared in his sixties asked tiredly. His tag read Sawyer and Laurie studied it instantly.

"Yes, you may, Mister Sawyer." She gave a false grin and leaned against the desk, making him uneasy. "I need to look at some files on a former patient. Michael Myers."

Sawyer flinched at the venom dripping off the very mention of the name. He was afraid of the woman, but he had a job to do. "Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't do that unless you have a permit or are a registered doctor here."

"I'm not asking for permission," she seethed, "I'm demanding then, Mister Sawyer."

A bead of sweat formed on the man’s porcelain skin. His fingernails itched at the desk and he found himself in a tight position and silently scorned whomever put him on a night shift. "What is your name, miss?"

There was a sudden clicking of heels and both Sawyer and Laurie found themselves staring at a woman. She was short and on her wrists laid many silver bracelets. Her locks were warm like chestnuts and her eyes shared the same warm hue. The figure walked forward, bewilderment on her face, as if she were surprised to see the other woman. Her age showed as she got closer—the fine lines on her face were indicative of her years. There was a certain familiarity both women in the room felt and her eyeshadow-smoked eyes widened.

"Laurie Strode?"

Laurie was at first silent, her eyes trying to make meaning of the familiar features. She had felt this woman's grace before. The woman gaped, this was a woman she knew very well. "Marion Chambers?"

Her brown eyes shined in excitement. "I knew it was you! My goodness, I am so glad you're safe!" Marion gasped, instantly pulling the woman into a tight embrace. She'd been afraid her mental state took too much of a plummet, especially with the new escape. "I've been thinking about you for weeks now, Laurie."

"Chambers, she has asked for confidential information," Sawyer chimed in plainly. Any fear that existed in the man was now gone.

"Mister Sawyer, it is alright, I know her. She may have access to whatever she needs." Marion removed herself from Laurie and looked to her, smiling. "Come with me, Laurie."

The blonde could only nod, and without a second thought she followed, leaving a flustered Sawyer behind. Between Tommy and Marion, Laurie felt the most connected she ever had to her past and it left her feeling the slightest bit unnerved. Once she stopped, she was in an office filled with cabinets and she gulped, already catching her and Michael's name on one of them.

"This is Mister Ranbir Sartain's office. It was Doctor Loomis'," Marion stated, running her finger along the thick papers. She glanced back to Laurie. "You are aware of who Mister Sartain is, right?"

Laurie nodded. "An unqualified doctor obsessed with Michael Myers."

"That he was," Marion agreed, taking a seat and taking multiple files from the cabinet with her. The brunette silently flipped through the files and she sighed. There were many things she herself had found, things she never knew that happened after Loomis' death. "You don't know how glad I am to see you alive and well after his escape. I heard you ended him. A hard decision made, but a good one."

Laurie shook her head. Again, the thoughts of Michael’s behavior being solely her fault bugged her brain. "Mrs. Chambers, Michael is not dead." She bit her lip. "That's why I came here."

Marion shut her eyes. She wanted to be surprised, but the woman should have known Michael would not give up so easily. "It's a good thing you came, then. You're missing some parts of the story. I was too."

Laurie nodded. "I thought so." Her one leg moved to rest on top the other and she leaned back, as if bracing herself. She was out for blood and so was Michael. "I refuse to let my daughter and granddaughter suffer the same fate I have. I need them to live in a Michael-less world."

Marion gave a firm nod in return. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She, too, accepting it was the only choice they had. "What do you know about Sartain?"

"I only know he told Michael about Karen. I was told at the station."

"Do you know why he was able to escape?" Marion pulled out a note and handed it to her. "Sartain planned it. He had wanted to wait until the opportune moment. Forty Halloweens later, and he wanted Michael to find you."

Laurie's eyes glazed over the words and it didn't come as a surprise. She had her suspicions about Sartain and his desires to find the heart of Myers, but he couldn't face the fact that person was forty years gone. The woman remembered the boy who told her he loved her, the boy that could smile or frown, the boy that would hold her in a tight embrace and wish she didn't have to leave him.

"Not surprised. He should never have bothered."

Marion tilted her head and wondered why the words hadn’t fazed her. "Laurie, did you read all of it?"

_April 17, 1998_

_Michael Myers displays no reaction and shows no action. There have been multiple polygraphed tests, all of which have shown no emotion and no reaction to speaking or sounds. His brainwaves are still as if in a coma, but as of today, I've found that it is not an everlasting condition. Michael shows the slightest elevation in reaction and awareness when I happened to mention Laurie Strode's name. I persisted with her and found substantially higher reaction with mentions of the daughter, Karen Strode. After attempting again, he had disassociated emotion with the words, but the more I persisted, the faintest bits of emotion I would receive. If in an uncontrolled environment with Laurie Strode or Karen Strode, I wonder what would pursue. If he is emotionally provoked, would his catatonia still prevail?_

"Michael may still exist, but there's no guarantee he will ever resurface." Marion watched as Laurie grew sad and even yearning. She knew Laurie missed that Michael her whole life and struggled, even now, with the fact. "It's okay to feel this way, Laurie. Your bond with Michael impacted everything. You've had to do so much by yourself. Raise a child without a father, struggle to make ends meet academically. Give yourself credit."

Laurie shook her head, adjusting her glasses. It wasn't her job to appreciate herself, it was her job to protect. "Not until I know my family won't suffer." After years of yearning for the old Michael, she'd lost hope, but now she had reason to hope again. What hurt was seeing this illness consume the boy. Laurie was sure he didn't want to hurt anyone, but it was the only thing that gave him mental clarity—clarity that formerly came from his love for Laurie.

"Laurie, please listen to me. You cannot hurt yourself over this, but you do need to face it." Marion sat still, watching the years of hurt flood Laurie, and she could only imagine how it felt. "I've always felt awful about it, that I couldn't have done more for you both. I should have told you about Michael. You could have helped him if you knew, we couldn't because we'd accepted he was gone."

The woman stared back, processing Marion’s words. Never had she honestly thought of Michael being able to recover. Laurie never wanted to return to that chapter in her life, but she failed to realize she never flipped a page since. "What makes you think he can still be saved?" Laurie cocked her head. "I saw nothing. Days ago, he'd attacked, but it was just as detached as before. The only thing I felt was something that wanted me dead."

Chambers understood, yet she couldn't fathom having hands that were once soft and gentle become cold and lethal. "I think he needs to be told something, anything from you. He felt what Sartain told him, but from you it would mean so much more."

Laurie shut her eyes and her hands slid to her knees, gripping them in dilemma. She always refused the fact she could save him. When one saw the sheer force of a monstrous spirit, it was ghastly and even revolting to ever bargain with it, for it knew nothing merciful. Her friends were slaughtered, her parents and the world alienated her, and her daughter paid for the heartbreak she instilled in the boy she once knew. Her life was defined by Michael Myers and because of it she hadn't a clue who she was.

"I want to, I've always wanted to help him, but I don't think he exists. He looks at me and knows only what I did. I broke him." She shook and a salty droplet fell, staining the denim of her pants. "I'm just—I'm scared. I'm terrified," she admitted, her speech being reduced to quivers.

Marion could only observe the woman. "I know you are. But you're too strong-willed and minded to let yourself surrender. You are his weakness. Doctor Loomis never meant a thing to him, but you were everything to him. You're the answer." The former nurse stood slowly, placing nothing but faith in her heart for Laurie Strode. Her legs moved forward, and she held her hand out for the other to grab. Once Laurie stood, she gave her face a thorough look. Her eyes were tired, scared, but they held passion. Chambers remembered a time when they were vulnerable, sweet. Time had changed her, for better and worse. "You're not alone. There's always a reason and you're all the stronger for it."

The blonde wanted to feel comforted by the sentiment, but it offered little reassurance. "I'm going to find him, and I won't stop until that thing dies." Strode pulled away and placed her hand cautiously on the hunter's knife in her pocket. "If I don't make it, thank you. Thank you for everything, Mrs. Chambers."

The woman nodded, her heart racing because she didn't want that to be Laurie's fate. "Anything for you, Laurie. Goodbye, good luck."

Once Laurie was gone, Marion made her way to the front desk, and found Sawyer's head resting against the marble surface.

"Mister Sawyer, close up for the night. Don't fall asleep on the way out," Chambers remarked, watching his head slowly rise then nod. She grabbed her ash coat and slung it over her arms, walking away from the man without a second thought. Her heels were the only thing heard and suddenly the lights went dim, indicating it was closing time, but something about it wasn't natural; it was bothering her. Marion bit her lip and forced herself to come to a stop. Her head whipped back to the hall. "Sawyer?"

The only response given was the buzzing of the lights.

"Sawyer, wake your ass up!" Marion yelled back, making her way back down the hallway and to the reception desk. Her speed increased and once she returned, she promptly dropped the article of clothing in her hand. It couldn't be.

There the man sat, his throat slit with one clean, penetrating cut. He was too fatigued to even fight back or make a noise.

The curly-haired woman backed away from the scene and she hit a wall. Her breath hitched. She looked to her side and there it was: the pale mask that concealed the face of Michael Myers. Marion's nails clawed at the wall and she turned, her heart racing. With her heels on, she could only run so fast, but she tried, even if she had an inkling that this night may be her last. She didn't dare look back. She ran as if she stood a chance, but her hopes diminished once her legs gave out on her. The heels of her shoes slipped against the glossed floor and she turned around, only to be met with the cold unforgiving mask. Her legs shuffled and the skin of her hands became raw as she pushed herself along the hard surface. Marion watched as the man's large hand reached down and clutched her fragile ankle with force, as if commanding it to break.

The woman screamed in agony and fear. This was Laurie's life; fearing this energy, this unstoppable energy. Marion looked to the eyes hidden beneath the layer of latex and shook. "Michael!" she wailed, but there was no reaction and he forcefully slid her back down the tiles. "Michael listen to me! I know you're not well, but I-I can help you!" she pleaded.

The shape stared, and his knife, saturated in Sawyer's blood, glistened just above her. There was no remorse, no emotion, and no glimpse inside of it.

"Laurie Strode! I know you're searching for her! Michael you have a family! They don't deserve this, just let them be! Please!" she rasped. Marion was trying to reach him, for both Laurie and to save herself from her unfortunate position. She knew she was a goner, but she wanted any indication of the human within. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I let you both down! She—she is so hurt, Michael! Laurie wanted to raise her daughter, your daughter, but she had to do it all alone! She loved you!"

The shape leaned down to grab her throat, but there was something slow about his demeanor, as if he were giving her time for one last sentiment. He unapologetically held her up, choking her softly in the process.

Marion felt herself lifted, and her airways crushed, but she continued to speak. "M-Michael! Kill me, but don't hurt Laurie! She's tired, she's broken, Michael!" she cried, and closed her eyes, but was muddled to see the masked figure make no action. There was a moment she thought she could see something in the eye staring at her, but it wasn't long until she turned purple in the face and the knife glistened. She gulped and looked up, a pressure building in her head. This was it. "I-I'm sorry."

There was a cold wind that swept through her chest and she felt cold. Her last vision was of the inexpressive mask.


	5. Temporary Love

_October 31st, 1963_

"Peter, how the hell do you think that makes me feel? I try! I give everything to you, and you think I'm just scum!?" the hurt woman roared, holding her throbbing head in her hands. Her heels dug into the pale kitchen floor, attempting to stand her ground in an argument she was clearly losing.

"Edith, I told you a million times, this is not about you or the kids!" The brunette stared at her husband, her hands clenching into fists. It was everyday she felt like this and every day she was treated like this. "It's always about Judith and Michael! You can't act so selfishly! I know your father may not have been there for you, but that doesn't mean you should act just as wicked!"

The man growled and made a step forward, reaching his hand out to give her a firm slap to the face. She needed to learn a lesson: that she was below him in his own home. "My father was ill! He heard things for god’s sake! He was not wicked, and neither am I, bitch!"

Michael winced at the words and he sat, numb. He could only hear more screaming and slapping, even thuds against the wall, which he was sure was going to need repairs like they always did. He wanted to fight back, because in his heart he knew it was wrong, but he was just a kid. There wasn't a single person in the world that could talk to him honestly, a single person that cared.

The boy was friendless as he had little to say and everyone pushed him around. He'd go to school, but there'd always be the boys bigger than him, stronger than him, and they always called him things like ghost. Michael spoke, but only when he had to. He'd tell them to leave him alone and they'd just make jokes about his voice. He was silent and they'd still verbally assault him. Michael was often pushed around by the bullies, but he remained calm; internally, he suffered. He'd come home to his drunk mother and on bad days, listen to his parents fight. There was no one, not even his own sister. Judith was always with a new boyfriend and had no time to listen to him, even if she did, she'd laugh at him or kick him away saying he was silly or irrational. Michael hated her being in charge. Every night with her meant having to eat dinner alone in front of the television while listening to the filthy acts of his sister and whatever boyfriend she had upstairs.

It was not that they were some low-class family struggling to make ends meet—they were rich in the sense they could go places, maintain a nice home, and live as comfortably as anyone else in Haddonfield did. Everybody knew them fondly, but the Myers were also poor, starved in love. They put on a mask of joy to the world, but the family felt as if they were in a war-zone with each other and Michael was caught in the middle. Divorce always hung over his parent’s marriage. Edith was always drunk or beaten by Mr. Myers and Judith never stayed home to support her young brother caught in the crossfire.

"Why do they fight?" Michael questioned, resting his head against the wall of his bedroom. He stared at the dartboard and few posters that hung on the blank surface.

Judith finished brushing her hair and leaned down, grabbing a leather bag strung across her vanity chair. "Because they don't want us," the teen said matter-of-factly, puckering her lips and applying an even coat of rose-tinted lip gloss. Her mouth made a satisfied pop.

"Why don't they?" the boy pouted, not wanting to believe her. She'd always told him the same thing, but Michael couldn't accept something that hurt too much.

The teen sighed in annoyance and dug out a pack of cigarettes in the top-grain bag, plopping them on the vanity. "Because! They don't love us, Michael! We're a pain in their ass, always have been." Michael stared at Judith as she picked up the soft pack that read _Lucky Strike_.

He watched as she slid the tobacco-filled stick out and into her mouth and cringed. "Dad told you not to smoke in the house."

"Michael, I don't care what dad says. You better not be a pain tonight, I have Daniel coming over and he's giving me a gift." Judith smirked as the name fell from her lips. She flipped her lighter open, holding the steady flame to the end of the cut tobacco.

The boy nodded and looked down at his ribbon-like clown costume that clung to his cold skin. Again, Michael felt alone in his own home; he became accustomed to it. "What's he giving you?"

"Mmm, something special," she laughed, kneeling to blow a cloud of smoke into her brother's face. Judith gave a chuckle and stood, walking away from Michael's bed which laid close to her own room.

Michael arched a brow. "What is it?" he beamed innocently, his green eyes observing his sister, who had yet to put a shirt on. The boy was used to her acting like that: so giving of her body. He wondered if it was normal.

"Well, you got a crush on any girl at school?" she asked.

He shook his head, not understanding the correlation. Michael was always fascinated by girls, but only girls who happened to be anything but what his sister or mother were. Girls who were like angels, girls who were sweet and kind. There were very few, but he could never focus on them and they fled his memory.

Judith pulled a bleached-white top over her head and laid it flat, then pulled on a pink blouse. "When you're older you'll understand. You'll really like her and want to show her."

Michael nodded, not understanding how this “gift” could be indicative of love.

"Michael! Judith!" Peter yelled up the stairs. He waited as the two walked to the living room and didn't speak until they were both attentive. "Your mother and I are going out to the theatre tonight. Judith, you're in charge of taking Michael trick-or-treating. Understand?"

The girl's mouth gaped in dissatisfaction, but she knew better than to argue with the man. "Yeah," she replied, her hands going to the headband that laid snug on top her golden-brown locks.

Edith nodded and her eyes looked down to the worried blonde boy in front of her. The woman kneeled and smiled, putting a hand on Michael's cheek, forgetting her own still had mascara running down them. "You're the cutest clown I've ever seen. Be good for Judith, now." She wrapped her arms around the boy and her chin rested on his petite shoulder.

"Edith, let's get going," Peter commanded. He watched as she pulled herself away from Michael and walked out of the door, not wanting to speak with him. Peter waved to the two before walking out to his vehicle where his upset wife sat.

Michael shuddered as the cool air from the door flowed into the room. He didn't feel good, he hadn't in the past few weeks and it felt unsound, like some loss of control. The boy's hand reached out for Judith once she turned away and he tugged on her violet leggings. "Judy? Judy?" he kept asking, following her into the kitchen. Michael needed comfort, anything, but it was only wishful thinking he'd get any attention.

The brunette looked down at her young brother and sighed, roughly moving her leg to push him away from her. "Michael, get away from me! For god's sake, I have to take you out, what more do you want?"

Michael frowned and hesitantly let go, his chest slightly aching from the rough push. The boy felt guilty, even if her anger wasn't his fault. He gulped and walked into the living room, but before he could sit there was a frantic knock at the door. His eyes peered out the window, but he couldn't see anything, so he shuffled to it, expecting it to be his dad forgetting something. Michael turned the gold knob and looked up to see Judith's boyfriend, Daniel. His heart sank.

The red-faced teen looked down to see the rather sad, innocent face of Michael staring back at him and he laughed, pushing the door open. Daniel kneeled toward the boy and ruffled his blond hair. "Aww look at the little clown, what's got him so down?"

Michael grimaced, then began to panic once he felt one of the teen's strong arms swoop him up, making him hang from his back. The boy thrashed, his weak fists hitting the blond's sweat-stained navy shirt. "Let me go," he pleaded, his pitch raising.

"Not until you tell me where your sister is," the boy cackled, finding joy in his pain. Daniel began to teasingly shake the boy, making him squirm even more. He loved to tease Michael, for the kid was so fragile, silent, but above all, a burden to his time with Judith.

"The kitchen! The kitchen!" Michael yelped, feeling himself slip dangerously closer to the floor. A small noise escaped him as he was rudely dropped to the floor, and once again he found himself alone.

The boy didn't pay attention to the explicit exchanging of words in the kitchen, he just slid himself onto his bottom in front of the door. Michael watched as kids walked by, masked and scary, yet jolly. He looked to his own mask and reached over, placing the plastic in his hands. His fingers ran over the mouth and eyes and found the illusion fascinating. If he put it on the world saw a smiling face, he could show the world anything, but not what he felt.

Michael gulped and hesitantly slid the mask over his features. He wondered if he could hide.

* * *

"Allyson! Allyson, you need to pick up, this is your mother! Please don't go looking for your grandma, you need to stay safe!" Karen screamed into her phone. Her face was red and her hands shook, unable to fathom if something had happened in the time she was gone. The woman went digging through her _Instagram_ , then her _Facebook_ , anything to figure out where Allyson was, but there was nothing. Her daughter could've been anywhere, even dead. She didn't want to think of that.

Karen groaned and put away the groceries and pre-cautionary tools she'd bought in case the worst was to come. It reminded her of her own mother's maddening habits preparing for the masked man. She stocked up on food, locks, anything Laurie would deem fit, and once she finished, she made her way to the bathroom.

Karen looked to the mirror. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and some marks of mascara were still underneath her tired eyes. She put her hands on the cold counter and inspected every feature of hers, starting with her eyes. The woman gazed into the emerald globes, but as much as she begged them to look like Laurie's or her "father's", they still looked like someone else's. Karen made a mental comparison of herself and the photographed person and it was clear, but not consoling. A queasy feeling filled her stomach and she reached for the mirror, urgently flipping it over to reveal the sorted pills. Her fingers desperately reached for ibuprofen to relieve the pain in her head. Karen picked two and put it in her palm. Not enough, she thought to herself, so she poured out three more and placed them directly in her mouth. She swallowed the five tablets down her dry throat and prayed they'd all fix her pain, just as Laurie thought the pills would save her as well.

Karen left the room, not wanting to break herself more than she already had in the span of twenty-four hours. She had a daughter relying on her and she couldn't give up. Once she settled down, only three things were on her mind: Allyson's safety, Laurie's safety, and Michael. Her fingers reached for the television remote and she contemplated searching for Allyson or Laurie to relieve any feeling of anguish. The glow of the screen and scattered candles were the only lights in the house and Karen wondered if it made her more or less of a target.

The woman began to think of Michael and how well such a lie had been hidden from her. Was she the product of an innocent, troubled boy or a cold-blooded killer?

_Ring_

Her heart raced. Could it finally be Allyson or Laurie? Karen grabbed her phone, her thumb prepared to swipe, but the screen showed a number she didn't recognize. The smooth ends of her teeth ran along her bottom lip and she contemplated her options: find trouble or find Laurie or Allyson. She swiped.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, is Karen there?" a troubled man answered.

Her arm shifted uncomfortably, positive one of them were dead. "Speaking."

There was a pause, then an audible sigh. "Karen, this...this is John."

Karen was silent. Her leg shifted on top of the other. "I'm sorry, who is this?" She felt as if she should have known, she knew who John was, but it just couldn't be.

"It's your father, Karen," the man admitted.

Her breathing ceased and her hand gripped the phone tighter. It was him, but that one word. The word was such a trigger for her, especially now. She now knew her father, and he was not like John, he wasn't even human. Karen made a noise but remained silent. She was speechless. Why would he, after decades, finally reach out?

John's voice erupted from the phone after the prolonged silence. "Listen, Karen, I know it has been years, but I heard about your mother and your daughter, Allyson. Are you okay?"

Karen stood from the sofa, unable to sit still. "Y-You...you're not my father," she choked, appalled he'd still lie to her. She began to pace.

"So, she finally told you," John muttered in surprise.

She closed her eyes, holding her head tightly. "Why are you calling me?" Karen cried, unable to refuse her tears. The woman had so many feelings and so many things to say to him that had only gathered over time. "You-You left me!"

He sighed. "Karen, I know I did and I'm sorry for it. I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted your mother to tell you, but she wouldn't."

"I wanted you to come save me from her! She made me do all this shit and you just let it happen! I called you! I left her and I wanted to go with you!" Karen sobbed, violently wiping the salty tears. She felt herself going through the same quandaries she faced as a child and she felt weak for never mending them.

"I know, I know you did, hun," he spoke softly, unsure if he could even act like her father anymore. Was there just too big of a time gap? "I wanted to, but I was already with somebody else...had a child at the time and I couldn't get my new family involved." John paused. "I want to meet with you again. Anything you need, anything you want to know."

Karen shook her head. "You were so scared of getting involved years ago. What makes you want to get involved in this killing-spree now?"

"I want to help," he pleaded. "As a father, as a friend, whatever you want. You're not going to be alone. Your mother did that and it got her nowhere but a place lower than she already was."

She wanted to take it, but it was a fight between her anger toward his selfishness and the fear she felt. "My husband is dead. My mother and daughter are out, god knows where, and all I know is they may die at the hands of my _actual_ father."

"Let me in, Karen. I had a responsibility and still do. You're more than some past."

Karen basked in the words she wanted to hear so badly. She had nothing to lose.

"Okay."


	6. The Chase

"Okay, so we've got like fifty bucks between the both of us and I doubt you're going home tonight. What's the plan?" Cameron asked uncomfortably. His eyes were tired from the constant driving, all of which amounted to nothing. They couldn't find Laurie no matter how hard they looked.

"Find my grandma. That's the plan," Allyson declared. She found herself restless trying to search for her. Both her and Cameron had looked at the police station and, after Elam got some nasty glares and comments, someone had mentioned Laurie had been there, but that was their only lead. But maybe Haddonfield wasn't the answer anymore. She gasped.

"Cameron!"

The teen held his head, uninspired. "What?"

The girl disregarded his aggravation and shook his shoulder, as if to wake him up. "Smith's Grove! The hospital where Michael was! She'll be there, I know it." Allyson gnawed on her lip waiting for her boyfriend to move, but he kept his eyes on the road and gave a sigh.

"Fine, but we need to fill up the tank before we go any further," he muttered. Cameron’s sight became blurred and his eyelids desperate to close. He'd found Allyson okay and that was all that mattered to him, but he was pissed. The teen was selfish with his time, not that he'd admit it, but he could have cared less about Laurie Strode. Sure, she was some hero, but only made a hero because of an enemy she created. "Your grandma better be there."

A lump formed in the girl’s throat as she watched the brunette pull into a broken-down Exxon station. She hoped Laurie would be there too. Allyson felt the vehicle come to a stop and both her and Cameron slid themselves out of the car. All day they'd been out and desperately needed some stretching, some snacks, and enough energy to continue with the new plan—a plan that was seventy miles away.

"Hey, I'm going to the bathroom, you'll be fine out here?" Allyson asked, jittery from standing in the frigid wind and staring at the black sky above. For a moment she'd forgotten how dangerous it was to have been out, and that just because she was Michael's granddaughter didn't give her a free pass to relax. Her likelihood of being slaughtered was the same as Cameron's.

"Yeah, I'll get some snacks and shit, take your time." He leaned against the car, staring at his cold girlfriend. "A coke and a colossal bag of gummy worms fine?"

Allyson scrunched her face. "Maybe to you they are. I'll just take something with coffee in it, it has to be sweet, though. Maybe throw in a pack of chips." She silently thanked him and turned away, not bothering to listen to anything said under his breath. If she was going to make it through the night, she was going to need to be caffeinated, and she needed to prepare for anything.

The teen walked into the structure that smelled of coffee and gas and avoided the lone cashier that eyed her suggestively. Allyson ignored him and stormed off to the bathroom, her sneakers walking along the sticky floor. She shut the door behind her, careful to let only the fabric of her sweater touch the knob and made her way to the toilet, which was even more revolting. Allyson shuddered and carefully laid pieces of toilet paper along the seat before siting. Once she was settled, the girl whipped out her phone for the first time in hours.

There were over fifty texts from her mom, thirty calls, and by the time she opened her phone it was lagging from all the notifications. Allyson did feel sympathetic for her mother, however. She understood it was wrong of her to leave her alone to not only worry about Laurie but her. The girl wondered if she was taking it out on herself or Laurie, or if she was having some existential crisis like she had the night before. The teen couldn't know what it felt like though, she was passed on some anxieties, but they weren't the same anxieties that came with growing up as Laurie's daughter, as Michael's daughter.

Allyson swiped through the texts and all were just concerns telling her to stay safe, some begged her to come back home, but she came too far along to stop. The girl went to her voicemail inbox and bit her lip, feeling guilty. She didn't want to hear her mom upset, but nonetheless she tapped it.

_"Allyson, sweetie, I need to know where you are and who you're with! You're not safe out there! I know you love your grandmother, but please come home...let her face this. She'll know we're here for her. She's the only one who can do this, we can only protect ourselves."_

"She'll kill herself if we don't," she muttered without care to her mother’s concerns. Allyson gave up after a few messages and made her way off the toilet, making sure to sanitize her hands until they were raw. The girl prudently placed the device in her front pocket and walked out of the dim restroom. She looked around but saw no signs of Cameron. Her legs led her out of the door and back to the car, sliding herself in.

"What took you so long? Were you shitting out your life story?" Cameron asked, handing her some cold bottled latte and a bag of chips as requested.

Allyson grabbed the items and wrapped her seatbelt around herself. "And if I was?" she joked just as discourteous. The girl leaned back and watched as her boyfriend revved up the car and pulled out of the station.

"Hey, could you pull up a map? All I know is that this place isn't close," he yawned, making a right turn down a vacant street. It had to have been near eleven or twelve and the only people that were out were party-goers, people who just wanted a pack of cigarettes or beer, or plain crazy people.

"Yeah," the red-head whipped out her phone and found a route but sighed when the map suggested the trip would be a whopping two hours. "It's going to take a bit. I'll look for her car on the way I guess." Allyson handed him the phone and attempted to relax. She grabbed the freezing glass bottle and began to suck down the beverage. The girl remained silent and so did Cameron, but minutes later the boy groaned.

"Your mother is calling you, this is like the second time now. Just tell her you're fucking me right now or something...or that we're at some party." He threw the phone back onto Allyson's lap and kept his focus on the road.

"If I said either I'd be dead," she sighed. The teen stared at her screen, contemplating if she should, but she assumed it would have been cruel letting her mom go to bed stomaching the fact she was gone or even dead. Allyson held the phone to her ear. "Mom?"

"Allyson! Baby, thank god!" Karen beamed, happier than she had been her whole life. "Are you okay? Where are you?" she questioned in a frenzy of relief.

"Mom, I'm fine, I'm just with Cameron. We're at," she paused looking to the boy who was frantically mouthing excuses to her. "We're at the movies," she stated, but her manner suggested otherwise.

Karen was quiet, but then spoke. "You mean you're not out looking for your grandmother?"

Allyson licked her lips, a heat creeping up her cheeks. She always had been an awful liar. "I mean I was, but I got scared and Cameron took me out. We're just hanging out, not looking for grandma."

"Honey, you need to come back home, Cameron's welcome too, but you cannot be out there!" she snapped, becoming more unstable.

She gulped. _Give a good lie, give the best lie_. "Mom, I just want to forget about all of this. I mean, being with Cameron is the only thing that is helping me through this right now. I'll think about it, but just not now, not for a while."

"Allyson, I know you just want to feel safe, I do too, but the only way you'll actually be safe is by staying with me!"

"So grandma really means that little to you?" Allyson spat.

"Allyson! She means a lot to me, but you do as well! You're my daughter!"

The teen shook her head, sick of the conversation. Laurie was a survivor, and her efforts seemed to be undermined. "Yeah? Well she could have forgotten about you, gotten rid of you, but she didn't! You heard her!" Allyson roared. "She loved you, sacrificed her life for you! She saved you from your own father!"

"Allyson!" the woman shouted, not wanting to hear another word. "I know she did! What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry for her ruining me mentally for all those years?"

The red-head shook, taken aback by the volume of her voice. "I'm saying that exactly," Allyson whispered. "I know you're just so pained by it all mom, but haven't you realized? Haven't you realized you're Michael Myers' daughter as well, not just hers?" The girl refuted, taking notice of Cameron's uneasy shift in his seat.

Karen was silent. "Yes, I have, but that doesn't mean your grandmother had a reason to do wrong by me."

"We made it out alive for a reason last week. I have things to do. Just–Just don't bother calling." She hung up quick, so quick she hadn't realized it happened. Allyson gulped, plopping her phone face down in her lap, unable to believe she had the audacity for the first time in her life to fight her mom. "Oh my god, I am so fucked."

Cameron nervously tapped the steering wheel and looked back to the girl, who seemed on the verge of tears. "Sooo," he trailed, "family, how 'bout it?" The boy hoped his joke would help her, but she kept the downcast face. He couldn't blame her. "Hey, do you want to just call it quits for tonight? I can just charge a hotel room or something, it's fine."

"No," Allyson blurted. She twisted her red-brown locks and gazed at the boy. She'd come too far and became too invested to just "call it quits." "I'm going to find her and I'm going to help her. She's not going to die."

Cameron gulped, wanting nothing more than to just go home and reverse time. He was trying for Allyson, but he felt too burdened by the situation. "Fine, but you owe me so hard. I don't want to die because your grand-poppy shows up."

"I hate you, Cameron," Allyson sighed, trying to take the title lightly. The girl pulled the hood of her grey track-team sweater over her head. She hadn't realized it, but, despite the caffeine, she dozed off to the barren road ahead. 

* * *

The blonde was exhausted. Her cheek rested against her propped-up hand and she tried to maintain her focus. It had been almost an hour since Laurie left Smith's Grove and she was driving back to Haddonfield, wondering where in the world Michael could have gone. If there were even any clues about a killing, she would have been on top of it, but he was taking his time.

Laurie sniffled and cautiously reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone that had been neglected for days save for one message to Allyson. She didn't bother reading any texts or listening to any messages, she just dialed Karen's number. Something told Laurie Allyson was able to handle the situation better than she could. There was, of course, still guilt from giving her daughter the past she had, but she knew it would save her family's lives as it had before.

The phone didn't finish a single ring before it was promptly answered.

"Karen?"

"Mom, where the hell have you been!? I've called you, I've texted, you!" Karen sobbed, her words past comprehensible. As much as she wanted to rage at Laurie, it relieved her to hear the woman's voice.

"I've been out, now what's wrong?" she commanded. Her eyes went to the road ahead and became confused once a car went by. She arched a brow and her head went to the side to look at it, but the woman could only see curly hair in the front seat. It wasn’t Michael, but it was nonetheless suspicious.

"It's Allyson, she's gone. I-I went to the store and when I came back, she was nowhere, mom!" A string of gibberish followed until even she didn't know what she was saying.

"Karen! Pull yourself together!" Laurie snapped, not wanting to waste time dwelling on what happened. "When was the last time you talked to her?"

Karen shuddered, having to recollect herself. "I don't know like an hour ago. She told me she was with her boyfriend at the movies, but I know she's looking for you, mom. She could be anywhere right now and—" she choked on her words.

"And what?"

"And the last conversation I'll have had with her was fighting."

Laurie closed her eyes and her heart fluttered. She knew it had to be stress and insomnia taking its toll on her. "Karen, we'll find her. I'll be on the lookout, just stay home and protect yourself." The last thing she wanted was for Allyson to get involved, but she wasn't surprised in the least. Allyson had always been the one that tried to reach out to her and try to help her even if she couldn't. "Is there anything else that I should know of before I go?"

The other was stiff, but she mustered the courage to speak. "Yes. I got a call."

"From who?"

"John."

Laurie sat and scrunched her brows, thinking. For a moment she thought the name was unimportant, then she understood. Her eyes widened and she clutched the phone tighter. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Karen admitted, "he told me he wanted to help, get involved again or something. I-I was going to refuse, but I thought it might be a good idea to see him again."

She placed the phone down and put it on speaker, her finger moving to her hair to twirl it. Strode looked ahead to the black road and felt a wave of insecurity pass. "I don't want him involved."

"Mom—"

"If John wanted to get involved, he could have done it before it was too late."

Karen bit her lip, silently disagreeing with the woman. "Mom, he started another family. I'm pissed at him to this day, but you never let him get involved. You never trusted anyone."

Laurie nodded, pressing her foot on the gas harder. "I wasn't wrong in my choices. My problems were my own. I didn't want him in my life if he wanted to fix what Michael did to me."

Karen absorbed the words and her mouth opened slightly. "Oh my god," she yelled into the phone, "that's it! That's what was wrong with you and that asshole David's marriage!"

The blonde didn't make a sound, she just listened to her daughter's crisis on the other line.

"You still loved him!" Karen accused. "Mom, how the hell could you still love _that_?"

Laurie held her fogged head and clenched her hair as tight as she could, she even contemplated just ripping it out to feel any form of sanity. "Karen, we need to get two things straight. There is a difference between that and Michael. Michael is your father and the person I knew, but that is what I want dead." Her diaphragm exhausted all oxygen left in it. "Even if it kills Michael," she admitted quietly, distressfully.

* * *

There hadn't been a problem until an hour later. Cameron was in the middle of nowhere and Allyson's phone died on him, leaving him with nothing. No map to show him where to go and no contacts to reach. He'd only seen some black truck pass with a woman in it, but that was about all the company he assumed they'd have.

"Allyson! Wake up, we're kind of screwed right now!" Elam reached over to shake the girl, hoping he'd find some route or other plan with her sharp thinking.

"What? What?" Allyson shuddered, bothered by the sudden disruption. She huddled her legs closer to her chest and looked up to the distorted vision of her boyfriend above her.

Cameron pulled himself off the half-awake form. "Both of our phones are dead and I honestly have no clue where we are, I just kept going straight, but I don't think we're in the right direction anymore."

The girl heard him but didn't listen to him until a minute passed. Suddenly, a pressure built in her chest and Allyson forced herself to sit up, thinking maybe she was wrong to defy her mother and try to find Laurie. She whipped her head to look outside and all was black except for Cameron's headlights. "Don't you have a charger or something!?"

"Umm, why the hell would I carry a charger for something I thought was going to be at tops a thirty-minute drive!" Cameron raged. He, too, became anxious and continued to drive straight, wondering if he could chance trying to find his way back. Michael was out there somewhere, and he prayed it wasn't near them.

"Phone!" the girl yelled, thrusting her arm forward, pointing to some odd stop where cement didn't even coat the path anymore. It was a rusted payphone from the looks of it, but she needed to know if it could help them before they went back, or forward.

The brunette nodded and sped his way to the area, hitting the brakes so abruptly it made both passengers lunge forward. Cameron unbuckled himself and jumped out of the car, looking both ways. Goosebumps coated his flesh and he watched as Allyson hesitantly made her way out of the vehicle. The boy trudged to the phone.

"Allyson, I need a quarter."

The girl nodded and fished around her jean pocket to find one. Allyson's heart raced as she looked and was relieved to find a piece of silver. She reached out and handed it to Cameron, only able to watch expectantly.

"I'm calling my dad," the boy stated as he pushed the silver inside the old machine. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear, his feet nervously shifting back and forth. Cameron impatiently waited for any noise, he even put another quarter in, but there was nothing, not even a buzzing.

"Is it working?" Allyson inquired, wrapping her arms around herself. She couldn't bear standing outside a moment longer, especially when no one was around.

Cameron growled and threw the phone down, leading it to only fling up and smash the remaining glass of the booth. "Motherfucker!" he screamed, kicking the rusted poles, grabbing onto the structure and shaking it with the intent of breaking it.

Allyson's heart sank. Now she was very nervous. "Cameron?"

"I swear to god, Allyson! I thought it would have been fucking nice of me to help you, but you fucked it all up!" He panicked, his face becoming hot in fear and fury. "I wouldn't be in this situation if I just left you home and said fuck your insane fucking grandmother!" Cameron began to pace and left his girlfriend standing in shock.

"Cameron—" she whispered, unable to breathe. She was now stuck in the middle of nowhere with a pissed off Cameron and no one to call.

"You're so fucking stupid for even thinking you could help her! Laurie Strode is just a god damn nut job! She's psycho and it's her own damn fault for loving some sick fuck!" Elam screamed, grabbing Allyson's shoulders to shake her.

Allyson whimpered, a hot tear forming in her eyes, but she refused to let it fall. Her arm swiped them away and she shook, feeling like a fool for thinking he cared. "So you love me only when it's convenient for you? Is that how it works?"

Cameron dug his fingers into her shoulders and his blood boiled. "What the hell are you going to do about it? Murder me?" The boy scoffed, backing up. "Oh yeah, that's right, your fucking grandpa does that because he's wrong in the fucking head! Then that craziness spilled all over your family!"

"Cameron, please stop!" Allyson screamed, unable to keep up with her tears that now fell like a waterfall. She backed away from the boy and turned her back to him.

"I always thought you and your mom were a bit loopy, now I know why! People told me! People told me you were different! I thought you were, but you and your mommy are just the products of some deranged woman and a psychopathic son of a bitch!"

Allyson didn't listen, she just dug her face deeper into her hands. Any given day she would have been stronger, but she wasn't in any state to defend herself with the whirlwind of emotions she was facing.

"I have one quarter left, and I'm going to waste it trying to call one last person," Cameron stated, turning from the girl. Only the sound of his tennis shoes against the grass was heard and he made his way to the machine, sliding in the last piece of silver he had left. The boy reached for the phone but paused, glancing to the ground. The phone cord was cut.

The boy gulped and backed away, but he looked up to find the pale mask staring right at him. Cameron hadn't heard him, seen him, never even sensed his presence. His heart raced and suddenly he had no air in his lungs, he shook uncontrollably. "Oh my god, oh my god!" He backed away, but before he could run, he was rudely grabbed by the masked man and slammed to the ground. "Fuck! Fuck! Oh my god!" he screeched, his head spinning from the abrupt slam to the dirt.

Allyson abruptly moved her hands from her face, and despite being terrified, she turned slowly. It was like she was paralyzed, watching things in slow motion. She looked forward to see Cameron's forehead gashed and bloody, but when she looked up she was terrified.

There he stood.

The girl stopped breathing entirely and couldn't do a thing but watch the boy's demise.

The shape snatched the screaming boy’s hand and aggressively yanked it upward so his whole body would come up. A vile pop sounded in the arm and the shape felt it loosen. He stared at the frightened boy and his left hand moved from the hand to the neck, holding it with an inhumane force.

Cameron held onto his throat and flailed, tears forming in the corners of his bloodshot eyes. "Allyson! Help!" he choked, using the last of his breath, but he didn't hear her move and all he felt was the crushing touches of the emotionless killer. The boy grabbed Michael's hands and tried to pry them off his now bruising neck, but he only held it harder. Before Cameron had even processed it, his neck cracked, and his eyes moved from the blank mask and to the starry sky. A rush of cold air went down his throat and he gave himself to the inevitable darkness that crept over his consciousness.

Allyson stood, watching as the boy's lifeless form fell to the ground. Her muscles twitched and she begged them to run, but she couldn't; she couldn't even breathe. She looked from the body and to Michael, who was now staring at her blankly, but he didn't make a move.

The shape was inspecting her but remained still.


	7. Waiting

"Allyson pick up," Laurie muttered, attempting to call the girl again. She had an awful feeling and cursed the masked man on the loose. He hadn't been found anywhere and as far as Haddonfield knew, he was gone for good.

Allyson's phone didn't ring, to Laurie’s disappointment, it simply went to voicemail and the woman wondered if it was dead. If it were, there was no way of reaching her. "Allyson this is your grandmother, wherever you are you need to come home! I will pick you up if you're alone, just please call me or your mother back." She ended the call, then looked to the road ahead, but something told her she was making a wrong choice.

Allyson was looking for her, so it meant she had leads as to where she may have been, and perhaps that she was interested in Smith's Grove. Suddenly, her car became slower and she sat blankly, thinking. She had seen one car pass and it wasn't Michael, just a young boy from the looks of it. Laurie recalled Karen saying something about Cameron, and she thought back to the boy she saw at Allyson’s congratulatory dinner a week ago. She tried to make any correlation between that face and the one in the car, then she knew. It had to have been Cameron and there was no doubt Allyson was in that car.

"Oh god," the blonde murmured, coming to the awful realization she was going the wrong way. Laurie swiftly braked her truck and accelerated, turning the vehicle a full ninety degrees and didn't stop making her way forward. She prayed she wasn't too late and hoped Michael wasn't anywhere near Smith's Grove.

"Hold on, Allyson."

* * *

Allyson's legs pulled her backwards and her back hit the car. She had a plan. Her eyes never broke contact with Michael's and she wondered what he was waiting for. He was not one to wait for some cinematic effect, Michael was just efficient. But he stood, not prompted to move, and the girl let out a sob, her hands shakily finding their way to cold door handles as Michael gazed.

She expected it to be a quick, sly move but the moment she pulled the handle, the car started to make a repetitive ringing noise and her brilliant idea was ruined. Allyson's breath hitched and her stomach churned as Michael's stillness was broken upon the escape attempt. He was now walking toward her, as if prompted or burdened by her attempt to escape. She shook frantically and begged herself to move.

Allyson threw herself into the driver seat and once she did, found her voice again. She screamed and cried as she revved up the car and tried to remember how to drive. She reached for the door and slammed it shut as she prepared to move the machine. The red-head looked to the window and Michael was staring right at her, something that made her want to shrivel up and cower.

His eyes were blank, but if she looked hard enough, she could have seen a glimpse of something unlike the abyss she knew, but she was too afraid to concentrate. She screamed and threw the car into reverse, only hearing the thud of the side view mirror as he ripped it off. It was as if he wanted her to stay, but despite Michael's uncharacteristic behavior, she wasn't going to stay just to find herself dead.

Allyson looked ahead to the masked man illuminated by the headlights of her car. She could have just hit the gas, ran his body right into the phone booth until it was crushed, but she couldn't. She couldn't do it even if she thought of him killing her father. Allyson cursed herself, wishing she wasn't so scared or that she hadn't anything human or familial to attach him to, but even if she had run him over, would he really have died?

The girl swiftly turned the car, the tires making a horrendous screech that unnerved her, but not the shape behind. Allyson yelled out as if someone could hear her pleas and made her way forward, punching the gas until she could no longer see the scene. Allyson's hands shook and reached out for the phone icon on the car screen, hoping she'd be able to contact someone, but with Cameron's phone dead, there was nothing she could do. Allyson trembled as she tried to keep her focus on the road and the screen.

After a moment of silence, she felt her anxiety ease, but only slightly. She hadn't thought of how Michael had found them or how he got there, and she didn't feel alone just yet. Something told her it was all too good to be true. The girl looked to the rear-view mirror and sure enough, there was a small light that was following her and accelerating, reaching her faster than she could run from it. There wasn't going to be an escape.

Allyson gripped the wheel, wishing she would have listened to her mom or grandma. She was ill-equipped to prepare for the consequences of saving Laurie, and the girl realized it was only Laurie who could take on the burden of ridding the world of Michael. It hurt her, though, to know it would be a painful deed for Laurie, even if Michael simply wasn't there.

Allyson kept her eyes shifting from the road and to the mirror where the light glared menacingly. Her hand again reached to the screen of the car and she frantically touched any button she could find, but the car started blaring tunes. Even the built-in map couldn't save her. The loud noises didn't spare her jitters and she reached for the volume button, punching it until she was sure it was broken, along with her knuckles. The teen's free leg stayed close to the brake. It was her last wish to crash the car and have no means of escape; she could just imagine her cold body lying on its side and Michael pulling it out, choking her or stabbing her until all light was gone.

After an awful fifteen minutes passed, she finally found the brake useful. There was a light, a rescue. She slammed the brakes and watched as the other car did the same, indicating they were going to help. Allyson frantically clicked her seatbelt and left the parked car still running, not daring to look back. The girl ran to the dark window and waved her hands frantically whilst knocking on the glass. At first, she was scared they'd just hit the gas, thinking she was some psycho person, but the door opened and so did her eyes.

"Get in the car!" Laurie yelled hurriedly, staring at her flabbergasted granddaughter. She watched as the girl ran to the passenger seat and promptly locked all the doors. The woman huffed in panic, staring at her, but the girl was focused on the road ahead. Laurie turned her head to face the headlights coming close.

"H-Him! That's him grandma, go!" she screamed, feeling her throat strain as she yelled.

"Hold on!" Laurie hit the gas pedal and her car jerked forward, able to run from Michael without a yard separating them. She swiftly placed her hand in the pocket of her jacket and rolled down the window as the other car followed. "Keep an eye out," she commanded, aiming at the white vehicle that was right behind her. Laurie could see the mask clearly and she gulped, reminding herself it had to be done. No more escaping. She put her finger on the trigger and closed an eye, aiming for his brain.

Allyson grabbed her grandma's shoulder and clenched her eyes shut despite being told to look out. A shot rang in her ears and she whimpered, not wanting to see if she missed or not.

Laurie inspected the windshield shatter and the car come to a complete stop. She slowed down, but not enough to remain still. She gazed at the driver seat, but there was no blood, in fact, there was no one even there. Michael seemingly vanished from the vehicle.

"Did you kill him?" Allyson choked.

"No...he's not dead," Laurie whispered, understanding it was just him making some move to confuse her. She turned her head away and hit the gas. The woman had no time to continue putting Allyson's life in danger.

The red-head watched as Laurie drove, rolling her window up and putting her gun between them. If he wasn't gone, he was still going to chase them. "Where are we going?"

"You're going home and you're going to stay there," the blonde declared, maintaining her focus on the road. She kept glancing back to see if Michael would catch up, but he wasn't there. Laurie reached for Allyson's hand and held it tight. "What happened back there, baby?"

Allyson gladly accepted the woman's warmer hand and her throat constricted. "Cameron died. He-He killed him." A single tear scorched her numb cheek.

Laurie frowned and ran her thumb along the teen’s hand. She felt responsible for it. She didn't want her actions to affect her family, but there she sat forty years later, and it had. Not only did Michael's return put them in danger, but her own mental torment spilled over to Karen, then her granddaughter. "I'm sorry, Allyson," she apologized. "Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head, thinking back to the blank gaze. "He just—he just stared at me. I-I tried to escape, then he went after me. Followed me until I found you." The girl bit her lip, recalling the last moments of Cameron's life. He kept yelling to her about Michael but always referred to him as her grandfather. If he had already been there, hiding, that meant he heard. Did he stare at her because he knew?

"Grandma?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I think he knows."

Laurie arched a brow, turning to Allyson. "What do you mean?" If the girl had somehow talked to him, she didn't know how her granddaughter got the impression. Granted, Michael already knew, but Allyson didn't know that.

"Well, I told Cameron about it all," she confessed, averting her eyes from the road. "And he was just saying some, some rude things a-and—"

Laurie glanced back to the road then to her, her heart aching at the sight of her tears. "Take your time, baby," she cooed.

"He was just screaming about him, calling him my grandfather. Screamed about you and him...then he was there. He-He heard, he had to of." She looked to Laurie who appeared unsurprised.

"He probably did." It was all playing with her mind now. If that thing was not as blank as she thought, it had to be provoked by something, but she couldn't venture to say that Michael still existed. "But he already knew."

Allyson sat, staring blankly. "I-I don't understand."

"I found out earlier. Sartain told him years ago. Just don't tell your mother, she'll just drive herself nuts."

The girl's eyes widened and felt a burning in her throat. She wasn't one to question her grandmother, but she felt the woman owed her answers and plenty of them. "Then how?" Allyson whispered. "How could he just do this to us without remorse?" She wanted to know even a glimpse of human existed, even if it was impossible.

Laurie was eerily quiet, not because she was answer-less, but because she was thinking back to what she had. "Because that's not human. I took that part," she admitted.

Then why had he stared at her? Why had he targeted them if there was no emotional attachment? Allyson's mind raced and she wondered why Laurie was so eager to fight him but not make reason of it. If he were so unreachable, Michael would never have been so focused on her. His random acts would have continued, but not his pursuit of Laurie.

"What if it's not gone?" Allyson inquired, hoping it wouldn't make Laurie feel any more guilt.

The blonde's head ached at the question. "It is. I just know it," she lied.

The girl wanted to test her limits, wanted to know how hard Laurie had tried to save Michael, if at all. "Have you talked to him? Tried to reason with him?"

"You cannot reason with evil," Laurie snapped. "Do that and you can consider yourself dead." She made a left turn onto a road that seemed less vacant and finally had street lights above.

Allyson hugged her knees closer to herself and rested her head on top. Her eyes subtly glanced to the woman who appeared deep in thought, hopefully considering her words. "It had existed in him before you. He was ill, but with you," she bit her lip, "with you maybe he felt he wasn't anymore."

Laurie closed her eyes, trying not to attach herself to the thought of the boy she loved. "Still my fault though, wasn't it?" The woman wished she could refuse those words, but she never attempted to relieve herself by saying something to the killer. If Michael cared enough to come to his senses, he may have, but he was never given the opportunity.

"No." Allyson grabbed her grandmother's hand tightly. "It wasn't, because you wanted to do right, but he couldn't live without you. That's why he's still after you, isn't it? _It's_ scared of you, but _he_ needs you and that's why it's scared."

The woman sat tranquil, but her heart was racing. Allyson had always been a deep thinker, trying to go below the surface, but Laurie was too scared for there to even be a surface. "He will be killed. It's the only way to stop it."

"I love you. Just don't hurt yourself. Please," she begged.

Allyson worried Laurie would do something to herself; some days she even waited for a call saying that she'd finally lost it and shot herself. The girl held her hand tighter and leaned against the woman's shoulder. She loved her and above all, appreciated her for how strong she was.

Laurie dealt with a lot of pain, pain that never went away, but she still fought. The problem was there was a hole in her, and the hole was Michael. She needed him too and Allyson knew her very being broke at the thought of ridding him from the planet, left without the chance to reach or see him again.

The car went back to the site of the crime and came to a rolling stop. It sat for minutes, but the form precisely moved itself from the vehicle, inspecting the empty car next to him. The engine was still roaring and untouched from the two that previously occupied it. The masked man approached the driver's seat and found himself staring at empty wrappers, glasses, and two cellphones all scattered among the seats and floor. He inspected all the items, but one caught his eye: a smartphone that laid in the passenger seat.

After staring at it, the shape reached forward and held it, its thumb pressing a button to test the device, but it didn't work. Again, he held the button, but long enough until a bright screen appeared followed by a photo of a mother and daughter: Karen and Allyson.

The lock screen was littered in messages, all from Laurie and Karen expressing their concern, but the shape stared blankly at them, as if they were insignificant. He was able to open the phone with ease, as it had no lock, and his finger led him to a map with specific locations of contacts. The shape slowly lifted the phone eye-level and found one contact's name: Karen. He gained access to her location and after staring at it for minutes, he dropped the phone back in the seat.

Michael turned around and sat back in the car he'd stolen from Smith's Grove, ready to continue his pursuit and rid whoever stood in the way.


	8. The Wrong Place

_September 25th, 1978_

"Choose one thing in this world you want the most," Laurie chuckled, her sun-kissed cheeks smiling at the person sitting in front of her.

"Nothing," Michael stated confidently, staring back at the pretty face before him. "Because if you wanted nothing, then everything would be a surprise. Everything would be enough." He returned a smile and his hands happily laid against the sheets of his bed as he basked in the girl's beauty.

The girl nodded and pulled a strand of hair back. "You've always got something smart to say." She meant it, every bit, and she wouldn't have it any other way. "I just wish you could see the world." Laurie leaned her head against his strong shoulder and looked up at him. His eyes were beautiful, emotional, but she couldn't find the right word to describe what he felt—if he was sad or happy where he was, or if he wanted to leave or not.

"I have, but you're better than most of it."

The boy looked to the nearly black sky pregnant with both rain and thunder and deeply inhaled. He'd been in the world, but as good as it could be, it had consequences and he didn't want to face the same pain he had before. He was content with Laurie, even if it was all the world gave him. He'd lived long enough, but once she entered the picture, he felt he’d just started to. The girl was the only one who could make him feel whole again and not like some separate entity. Michael knew he was a murderer, but he cowered from it because he didn't want to return to a cold, empty world. The girl was just like an angel. He loved her with a burning passion.

The blonde pouted and wrapped her arms around Michael. Laurie wanted to know him and what he wanted, not see the surface like she had so many times. "If you had a job, what would you want to do? Would you travel the Earth or just stay here? Would you want to do anything at all?" The girl gave a small laugh. "Those are the things I want to know."

Michael arched a brow. It was too many questions to handle and all questions that were unrealistic; he couldn't fathom them even if he tried. It saddened him that he couldn't just leave and normalize his relationship with Laurie, but it was law. He didn't know what life he would have had or what he would do. These were all things he knew would never have. In another life, he would have gladly given Laurie anything she wanted.

"I couldn't," he whispered softly, leaning down to kiss Laurie's temple. He gingerly played with her hair and rested his cheek on top her head, feeling himself calm in her presence. "Not even if I wanted to."

The girl frowned and grabbed Michael's hand. She held it tightly and looked to his features, a chill running down her spine from the despair in his voice. There was something that happened to him, that had to make him feel this way or end up where he was. "Do you want to?" she whispered just as soft.

Michael gave a weak smile, shrugging. "Only on one condition."

"What?"

"That you'd be there."

Laurie felt a heat creep over her cheeks, and she couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach. "I would...I'd do anything you wanted to." She curled closer to the boy, thinking it unfair she couldn't take him with her right there. Why couldn't she give him all he'd ever wanted and cure him of whatever hurt him?

"Are you okay?" the girl questioned.

Michael held his breath. He wasn't okay and he never knew if he would be. It wasn't Laurie's burden to bear, though, and she would think of him as an awful person.

"Of course."

Laurie stared at him, felt him tense, and knew it wasn't a firm answer. "Then why can't you go with me, Michael?"

The boy looked away and his head ached with uncertainty. "I-I just couldn't." He wanted to confess, to tell her he killed Judith, and to tell her he didn't want to lose to the barrier within. Michael dealt with pain that needed fixing, but even when it became too much, he dragged himself along. He tried to survive.

Laurie lifted herself from his chest and sat in front of him. She gently cupped his cheeks and leaned forward, resting her forehead on his. Her eyes sadly observed his. "Then what's wrong? What are you so afraid of?" She leaned forward and kissed his lips, hoping it would loosen them into telling her the truth. "I want to help you."

"I'm just sick," he confessed quietly, feeling only a slight weight lifted from his chest.

The girl ran her thumb along his cheek. "I knew that. If you weren't sick, you wouldn't be here," she spoke, comforting him.

Michael's brows furrowed. She didn't get it, she should have backed away. "I'm mentally ill. I'm sick _inside_."

Laurie nodded, her hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. "I know, Michael," she paused, "but I don't think you're some freak for it, I just want to know what's wrong." She frowned and pulled him into a hug, her arms latching around him tightly so he couldn't let go or hesitate as he regularly did. The girl felt awful watching him suffer and lock himself away with his own fears. "Let me in, let me understand."

The boy was comforted by her words, but again, she didn't know how ill he was. It seemed fine, even repairable, until murder entered the equation. An unforgivable act. He could never let her in, but he never anticipated that it could've been the biggest mistake of his life, even bigger than Judith.

"I did something," he blurted, his heart racing upon confession. It was the closest he'd gotten to mentioning the incident and he already wished he hadn't said a word. Michael shut his eyes and gripped Laurie harder than he ever had. He didn’t want her to leave him.

Laurie nodded, taken aback from the blisteringly tight embrace, but she knew it was progress. The girl's fingers ran through his hair as she tried to comfort him. She wondered what a six-year-old could do that was so awful, but it was enough to hurt Michael and it, in return, hurt her.

"What did you do?"

The teen could only hold him, and it wasn't long until she realized he was shaking in her hold. Laurie pulled away and stared at his handsome face that had a lonesome, fresh tear falling from it—something she'd never seen from him before: a strong emotion.

"Michael," she gasped, her hands reaching out to wipe his tear away. Laurie kept muttering strings of "it's okay, you're okay" and silently scorned herself for making him upset. The girl kissed him gingerly, and it wasn't long until the tears didn't fall. He'd cried only two tears and was able to shut the pain out as soon as it began.

Michael didn't want her to see what was wrong and didn't want her to know the side of him that existed. She'd seen it silent, lurking, but never in the world where everyone was a target. "I'm fine."

"I won't bring it up again, I promise," she whimpered. Laurie could sense the pain in his eyes. She leaned forward and desperately peppered his lips in kisses, which he was able to give a small smile to. Once her lips moved from his, she continued to stare. "Just know I'm not going to hurt you or leave you. I love you too much to ever just let go. Doesn't matter how sick you are."

He wanted to believe her, but he couldn't. It may not have mattered how sick he was, but he was still a murderer. The boy laid back and pulled the girl forward, and once Laurie laid comfortably next to him, the two turned to face each other. "Thank you."

The blonde nodded, a smile gracing her face. She hesitantly laid her arm on Michael's stomach, but was stunned when the brunette pulled her closer and laid an arm over her as well.

He seemed awfully afraid, for he wasn't scared of loving her, he was scared of himself.

"I want to ask you on a date," Laurie murmured, "to the movies, dinner too. Anything that'd make you happy."

Michael gave a look of disappointment, his hand moving to play with her soft hair. "I told you, I—" he felt her finger pressed against his lips before he could finish.

"Let's pretend," she whispered happily, "that it will happen." Laurie leaned her head against his hand and goosebumps formed on her skin. "We could see the Eiffel tower if you wanted, elope to Mexico, even swim in an ocean," the girl laughed.

Michael smiled and rested forward, his warmer forehead resting against Laurie's. It seemed like a dream and the mere mention of it all made him want to run away with her, never to look back. But he couldn't do it, even if Smith's Grove deemed it safe to let him go. He was unstable.

"Or we could just stay like this," he mused, savoring the closeness and protection of the girl.

Laurie hummed in agreement and pressed her lips against his, enjoying the warmth and comfort it brought. Her fingers softly traced the ridges of his spine and silently thought to herself if their relationship would ever be more than what it was.

_One Year Later_

Beige walls that once held photos and decor were now blank and empty. There were no more drawers, no clothing, and no memories that laid in the stripped-down bedroom. Books that were once relevant were not, and any signs of life were removed and put in boxes. The only life in the room was the blonde girl and another smaller life.

Laurie sat on the barren bed, staring down to the attentive infant in her arms. The girl watched as her daughter looked up to her and gave a little smile, as if she knew she was being looked at in sheer adoration.

She made a little noise in response and her small hands grabbed onto her mom's sweater, embracing the warmth.

"You don't even know how cute you are, do you?" Laurie smiled, leaning down to kiss her head. Her fingers ran along the baby's soft cheeks and her heart danced.

She had only undying love for the girl and despite feeling down about who was no longer there, she always had Karen. Karen was her baby and any moment she had to part from her was an upsetting one. Sure, she was young, and some had their doubts, but she’d already proved herself a wonderful mother and she didn't know if she could blame it on extensive babysitting or pure love. The most important thing, however, was that Laurie finally familiarized herself with feeling whole again. It was only some nights she stayed up crying, holding Karen and worrying about the future and him. She never forgot about Michael through it all and she never would, but Karen was the sweetest little piece of him she could have and keep.

She shifted her focus from the baby and sighed, listening as her mom talked downstairs with her aunt about the new living "arrangement." Laurie was finally taking off from Haddonfield and starting college, even if it was a couple months delayed. Had she not given birth to Karen a mere two months ago, she could have gone a month before. College wasn't something she necessarily wanted to do with how busy she was with Karen, but she understood it was necessary.

Laurie squished the girl's cheeks and chuckled, "Must be nice being a baby, just watching your momma and being adorable, huh?" She slowly stood and kept the small person close to her, looking around her now vacant room, considering what more needed to be done before she left. The girl grabbed a final bag on the ghostly bed and walked to her door, saying goodbye to the room for good. Once she made her way downstairs, Karen's eyes were shut, and she was soundly playing with a lock of Laurie's hair. The girl glanced to the multiple bags by the door and was about to walk toward them but was pulled into the conversation between the two women.

"Laurie, dear, do you have everything you need from up there?" Pamela asked nervously. She understood her daughter was eighteen, but she still babied her, especially with her having a child of her own. The woman offered Laurie support in the process and she was going to see to her job till the bitter end, as both a mom and grandmother.

The blonde nodded and smiled as her scalp tickled from the strands of hair Karen was playing with. "Yeah, I think I've got everything. I just feel like I'm missing some of Karen's things."

"Oh, don't worry, I packed her things already. Your Aunt Tracy will help you and Morgan take your stuff to the car." The woman bit her lip and looked to her sister. "Could you give us a moment?"

"Of course," she replied, patting the woman's shoulder and grabbing the few bags left to transfer to her vehicle.

Laurie watched as her aunt and father took the surplus of items to the car, of which most belonged to Karen, and turned to her mom. "What is it?"

Pamela Strode stood and closed her eyes, a tear falling down her cheek. "I'm just going to miss you and her," she shook, moving closer. The woman leaned forward and kissed her daughter's forehead, then Karen's. "You're still my baby, Laurie, my strong baby," she choked, continuously wiping the salty stream even if it kept falling. "I want you to call me once you get there. Call me every night if you want, for my sake at least."

Laurie nodded and resisted the urge to cry as well. "I will, I promise."

"I want you to focus on Karen and your schoolwork, alright?" her mother stated more than asked. She put her hands on Laurie's shoulders and stared at her earnestly. "I want you to be happy. Don't think about that boy any longer, you hear? Almost a year has passed, and I think it'd be best you just forget about it...and that you never tell Karen."

Laurie's heart sank in disagreement but nevertheless she nodded frantically. She was always going to remember, and she didn't want to forget Michael—she only wanted to forget that masked face. About the only rule she'd follow was never telling Karen, something she thought she was doing her and herself a favor by. "I won't."

The woman nodded and looked to Karen, smiling. She may have despised Michael regardless of if he was kind to her daughter, but she loved the baby to pieces. The child looked like Laurie, but there was also something so overwhelmingly someone else and she assumed Michael's traits contributed greatly. "Let me say goodbye to this cutie-patootie."

Laurie looked down to Karen and watched as she slept. The girl didn't want her to wake up, so she very gently handed the infant to her mother, but she had no such luck.

Pamela watched as the baby looked up to her with her bright eyes and smiled. "Grandma's going to miss you!" she wailed, smooching her forehead, cheeks, and nose. She smiled once the baby made a little noise of excitement and continued her goodbyes before handing her back to Laurie. "I love you, Laurie. Now take care and clear that head of yours."

"I will, love you too," she spoke softly, securing Karen in her arms before walking to the door. She was sure her mom meant no harm, but she felt some sort of harshness or ignorance in the delivery. Her legs led her to the pastel-blue vehicle where both her aunt and father were waiting.

"I've got all of little one's stuff in the rear, all of your things went in the backseat except for some baby emergency items," her father joked. The man pulled Laurie into a gentle hug, being mindful of the child in her arms. "So, this is goodbye for now, kiddo," Morgan whispered.

Laurie nodded and felt a wave of comfort pass. "Goodbye, dad," she frowned, resting her head against his shoulder. It wasn't long until they parted, and her father leaned down, facing a tired Karen.

"Bye, baby. Pops will see you again, I promise," he grinned, his hand gently petting the subtle brown locks on her head. Once he was done showering her with love, he gave his daughter one last goodbye before going back inside, leaving Laurie with her aunt.

"Would you like me to help you buckle her up back there?" her aunt's gentle voice chimed.

The girl shook her head and smiled. "She'll sleep easier if she's with me, I'll just stay back there with her."

"Alright, let's get this trip started!" Tracy smiled, her platinum locks almost blinding in the sun.

Laurie slid herself into the car and shut the door before situating Karen in her car seat, taking extra care to make sure she was buckled in. She buckled her own seatbelt and noticed the baby wasn't happy with the lack of touch from her and cries escaped. The girl pouted and was quick to rest her hand on the baby's tummy, looking forward to the road ahead. Once she felt Karen's tiny fingers secure around her hand, she smiled and watched as her daughter slept.

"Going to University of Illinois, huh?" the woman in the front of the vehicle asked, breaking the girl's focus.

"Yeah." Laurie smiled.

"Your Uncle Mark went there when he met me. It can be a toughy, but then again he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed," her aunt chuckled, keeping her focus on the road. "God, he's so excited to meet Karen too. Once he knew you'd be coming with us, he wanted to know all about the little one. How much did she weigh?"

Laurie bit her lip. "She was five pounds." It wasn't something she was proud to say, Karen could have been healthier, but she was guilty of undereating and still was. The issue was addressed many times by Doctor Loomis more so than her own doctor. She sighed. Doctor Loomis, someone she wanted to trust and was better off confiding in than anyone else, but she always removed herself from.

"What a tiny thing! Your mom was born like that too, it's genetic I suppose." She remained quiet but didn't take any notice of Laurie's guilt. "And the father? Is he, well, in the picture?" Tracy asked cautiously. Her sister hadn't told her much, but she did understand something awful had happened to Laurie because of him.

The blonde felt her breath hitch and her heart raced, as if she were having a panic attack. She thought she'd get used to the question with how many times it was asked, but she never did. Laurie focused on Karen to bring her comfort. "No. He's gone."

"Aww, I'm sorry about that. Did he pass away?"

Laurie nodded her head. That was a way to put it. "Yeah, he did."

"That's awful," Tracy trailed, her fingers thumbing against the steering wheel. "As long as she has you, though."

The girl silently agreed but felt like she owed Karen something. She didn't own anything of Michael's except a book he wrote notes in. Laurie had stolen it from his room, and she doubted she'd find that interesting. There would have been a consequence if she continued the girl's life without a positive male role model, though. If she wasn't with her grandfather all the time, she'd notice she was lacking love from a father-figure.

Laurie liked to dream about things going differently, though. She liked to imagine how nice it would have been if she hadn't left Michael and gave him time to open up to her; she was so close to reaching him. She also liked to imagine if he'd known about the pregnancy, and the girl knew Michael would never have been upset about it. The Michael she knew would have been only upset at the fact he couldn't be with Laurie around the clock and that the same conditions would apply to the baby. It just would have been nice to know what had happened with his sister and help him move beyond it, then progress to helping him leave Smith's Grove at least right before Karen came. She wouldn't have been so scared and lonely as she had in the pregnancy. He never would have let her starve herself or let her give up on herself.

Michael and she had always brushed upon the future, but never on having kids. She didn't even know how he felt about stuff like that. Laurie never even knew how she felt about it until she was forced to think about it. If she had to guess though, Michael would've been happy, but only if he could share that with her. All he ever wanted was for Laurie to be with him, regardless of the path that followed.

He could have been helped, set free, and had a life with her and Karen, but the world didn't allow it. His illness was severe, and she made it worse for him to live with.


	9. Reunited

Karen had been pacing and checking her windows and phone obsessively. She was expecting a call from Laurie or Allyson because not only had she been able to reach both prior, but her daughter's phone haphazardly became receptive. Calls that couldn't go through now did, as if the device was turned on—an unsettling notion. What she was mostly expecting, however, was John. He'd texted her and was adamant about coming as fast as he could. He lived in Chicago and it would’ve taken him a full hour to reach her, but an hour passed, and he was to arrive anytime.

For years Karen wondered where John went or if he still loved her, for he was the only father she knew, and to have him plucked from her life at the age of six wasn't pleasant nor was it ideal. She remembered the one December night Laurie was in her room "sick" as John had said. The man talked to her, played with her, and held her, but his mannerisms were off, like he wanted to tell her something. Now she finally knew what. She was put to bed and John went back upstairs. It seemed to have happened in a blip—some yelling, some crying—then he was back downstairs, but this time with a coat on. Karen begged him to not leave, to stay with her, and he only smiled, telling her he loved her. He said his goodbyes and left the home, never to come back. After that, her mother turned and began preparing for Michael Myers, scaring her into thinking he'd come for her.

After she left and went into foster care, she searched for John and made specific requests that he take her. John was found nowhere, though, and Karen accepted she was alone, without anyone to run to.

_SLAM_

Karen gasped and her thoughts disintegrated in the flames of anxiety. Her legs wobbled as she walked toward the covered windows and silently, slowly, pushed the beige polyester away to find a parked car in her driveway. Her eyes narrowed and searched for a person leaving it, but then heard the loud ring of the doorbell. She hated being paranoid like Laurie.

The woman walked to the door and her hand engulfed the knob apprehensively, the clamminess of her skin transferring to the handle. She twisted and pulled forward to be welcomed with a rather somber face of a man. This man had grey hair and fine wrinkles, and his eyes were an icy green, ones she thought looked like hers, but now were like a stranger's.

"Karen?" he beamed, gloomy but astounded.

The other inspected him just as he was inspecting her, and her face began to feel flushed in sadness and rage. "John?"

"May I come in?" he inquired awkwardly, fidgeting.

She nodded and opened the door further, holding it open for the man to enter. Karen shivered at the brisk wind outside and slammed the door shut, making her way to the living room where John stood. She knew the face, but it was a stranger's; had she not had a past with him, he could have passed for a random person. He was there in the flesh, but it wasn't as satisfying as she’d anticipated.

"Where's your mother?" John questioned to break the silence, tapping his heavy shoe on the spotless floor.

Karen bit her lip. "She's out, and my daughter is with her." She uncomfortably stood, an ache forming in her back and throat. There wasn't going to be immediate forgiveness. "Why did you come here?"

The man nodded, expecting that very question. He sat down on the sofa and motioned Karen to sit. John watched as the woman complied and he cleared his throat, preparing to confront all the thoughts that haunted him since divorcing Laurie. "Why do you think I came?"

Karen felt her heart swell, questioning if she should move on or get all her whys answered. "To give me a damn good explanation, I hope."

John accepted the answer and his hands folded on his lap, leaning forward. "What do you want to know?"

The woman shrugged, looking away so he couldn't see her cry. "I don't know," she muttered, "things like why the hell did you leave me with her? Or why didn't you just call?"

He felt a pang of guilt but knew he deserved his daughter’s resentment. "I did have my own family. Had a son and a new wife, but I'd be a liar if I said that was the end of it." John brushed his thumb against his chin. "You two never left my mind," he confessed, "I feared your mother. She wasn't herself anymore and there were many nights I just sat wondering what was next. I wanted her to be strong for you...and the only way that could happen was if I left."

Karen sniffled, a salty crystal staining her skin. It was the wrong answer, an unjustifiable one. "Leave? I was six! I was six and you-you left me! She made me shoot guns! I lived on lockdown for something that never came!" The pain in her throat worsened. "Why couldn't you have just told me? About _him_?"

"About Michael? _Your father_?" he emphasized, wanting her to recognize the reality even if she already knew it. "Believe me, I always wanted you to know when you became old enough to understand. Laurie wanted you to feel normal, to not be harmed by it. She always told me she didn't want you to fixate on the truth and feel of empty, just like her." He stared at the woman and closed his eyes. "She didn't want you to try and find him."

The other gulped and held her hands to her trembling lips. "Why didn't you get her help? You could have stopped her."

John shook his head in disagreement. "Your mother was beyond that. I tried, Karen, god knows I did, but as much as she was in love with me," he trailed, "she still loved Michael Myers." He watched as the woman flinched and shook off the name. "If she could've had him for life," he mused, "she would've kept him. But she couldn't and left herself to fantasize about how life could've been." The man hesitantly placed a firm, heavy hand on Karen's shoulder. "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear, but she wanted him, not me. I...I was her rock, but never the one she wanted. I was your father because she needed that support for you and her."

"But you're still a liar," she shook. Karen shook the hand away despite wanting to understand the man. It was just outrageous to her that Laurie could've felt more love to a monster than John but hide it. She wanted to be angry at somebody—Laurie, John, or the parts of her that were Michael. Her fingers ran along her shirt and focused on herself; what she really was. "Why did you still love me?"

"Why wouldn't I have loved you?"

"Because I'm part murderer. I wasn't even yours."

John watched her tears fall and reached out to grab both of her hands. "I saw a beautiful woman who would give anything for her child, even with the scars she carried. Behind that I saw a daughter who was sweet, innocent. She was the smartest little girl I'd met and she loved her mother, but this little girl needed a father. She didn't understand what it was like, but she knew she wanted that kind of bond." John faltered, finding himself saying the words he wished he had years ago. "I knew I wanted to be that for her. I loved her, even if her biological father was the thing he was, and I wanted her mother to know she wasn't alone, that her life was not meant to be full of suffering."

Her hands held onto John's just as tight and Karen's vision became clouded by tears. It was the reassurance she needed—that the man never stayed out necessity. She wanted to know she wasn't a monster even if Laurie had told her she wasn't born from one. "I'm scared something's going to happen to her tonight."

John nodded and held his arms out, to which Karen responded and embraced him. He held back without the intent of leaving as he had before. "It was awful of me to leave you, but I promise I'm here now. Your mother is finally going to face Michael. I always wanted her to. We're going to make it no matter what may happen, whether it's tonight or years from now."

Karen nodded hesitantly, placing her trust in the man. She pulled away and looked to the phone in her pocket, her thoughts going back to Laurie and Allyson. "My daughter left with her. I haven't seen her since this afternoon."

"She will be okay. I know your mother won't let him touch her," he assured. John looked to the walls and the framed photos that hung from them. His eyes analyzed a red-headed girl, Karen, and a smiling man. "Tell me about your family. I want to know what I've missed."

The woman looked to the picture and smiled. It was from Allyson's thirteenth birthday and they'd gone to Florida to take a break from the Haddonfield summer. She looked to Ray's smiling face and her heart ached. It pained her to know the fate of her husband. One day he was joking about mice in their home and bragging about his woodwork then he was just gone the next. "That's my daughter Allyson. She's seventeen, real smart girl," she sighed, "but she also has her problems with her grandmother. She's the only one that attempted to be forgiving of her all these years, though."

John smiled. "She's got a good heart for trying," he remarked, looking to the man in the frame and nodding toward it. "Is that your husband?"

Karen nodded, pulling her bleached locks behind her ear. "Yeah. His name is Ray…he was a good father and I-I relied on him for everything. He got me out of the bad place I'd been in as a child, convinced me to finally forget about the paranoia instilled in me by my own mother."

"And what about now?" the man inquired nervously.

She pressed her fist to her mouth to suppress any sobs. "Ray was killed by Michael," she managed to choke out, "last week."

John's eyes widened and his lips parted. "Honey, that's awful, I'm so sorry."

Karen nodded and lifted one leg to rest on top the other. "The funeral is in three days and I-I just don't want Allyson to feel alone. She loved her dad and it's just…hard," she paused, "to know that it was actually her grandfather." The woman struggled and her fingers dug into her palm. "That my _father_ did this."

"I know it's hard to understand, but I was your father. You have to understand Michael did at some point love your mother." John shook his head as Karen seemed to ignore the sentiment. "I am not asking you to forgive him nor am I asking you to accept this, but it was real to him, real to your mother. Your mother left a very ill person behind after earning his trust. I think that’s something that would scar just about anyone."

Karen threw her hands into her lap. "He doesn't have any reason to kill! If he wanted his own family to be happy, he could've just stayed away!" She swiped away tears and old mascara. "I never asked to be born, especially into this."

"If she hadn't given you a chance, hadn't seen the truth that you weren't some awful reminder, you never could've had what you have today," John declared. "You never would've had Allyson, never would've met Ray. Your mom never would've felt a reason to live after losing Michael."

Karen still didn't want to accept her blood. She hated Michael regardless of who he used to be. "She should never have met him. Michael Myers may be my father, but he will never receive any sympathy from me. He ruined my life. Ruined my mother."

John sighed and grabbed both of Karen's shoulders, gently shaking her. "Listen to me. Your mom told me about it all. I've heard every story about Michael, I've heard the whole picture. It was an incredible story, and you must listen. He was ill, hadn't even gotten to the point of telling her about the murdering of his sister. Michael wanted to escape from that to be with your mother. She was the only one he had. Your mother realized too late that she was doing wrong by promising him something that wouldn’t last, and the consequence was Michael's illness persevering. His illness has killed people, but never him. It took me years after the divorce to finally understand that."

The woman's hands went to hold John's and she couldn't hold back her cries. Her form racked with each sob and each word the man spoke was imbibed until fully understood. It began to make sense, but Karen still had her doubts and awful notions about it.

"Karen?"

"Yes?"

"I am asking to be a part of your life again, if you'll let me. I have yet to fulfill my duties as a father and now a grandfather. Just let me help you."

Karen sniffled, then looked up to the man. "Okay."


	10. In for the Kill

"What about that Laurie Strode woman?" an officer stammered, her hand glued to the doorframe. Despite the humming of a furnace, the building seemed eerily still.

"What about her, Officer Diane?" Sheriff Barker asked mockingly, turning a page of a hefty report.

The woman's body seemed to feel heavy the longer she stood, and she looked back to the now empty office, a sense of dread filling her. "I don't know...just getting bad vibes from this whole situation. We have a masked mad man on the loose and no clue to follow." She raised her hand to her lips and fretfully nibbled on her shortened nails. "He could be anywhere."

Barker sighed and slammed the report shut, knowing he was not going to be able to finish with the panic that had overcome Haddonfield authority. If law enforcement was agitated, then he didn't want to know how the public would react if they knew. "His ass will be in jail soon enough. Besides, he has a target. We could use Strode as bait," he said plainly.

"Why aren't you following her then?" Diane cocked her head.

"If there's one thing I know," he gave a gravelly laugh, "Strode will find him way before any of us will. She'll kill him faster than our whole force combined." The sheriff stood and took one last swig of cold coffee before discarding the styrofoam cup in the trash.

"And if she can't?" the officer questioned, her heart pacing at the thought. "If even she can't best Michael Myers?"

Barker looked back to the distressed face staring back at him, but he felt no sense of panic. "Well, then survival of the fittest. We'll have a damn bloodbath. Hell, all of Haddonfield could be gone by tomorrow and we'd never know Myers' fate." The way he viewed it, the universe was the only thing that would take care of it. He hadn't any more regard for the case because the matter of it was all so simple: Michael needed Laurie both dead and alive.

Diane shook her head in disbelief at her comrade. "You're okay with this? Just letting all of town blindly line up for death row?" She stood in front of Barker to block the door. The woman wanted him to answer, to see the gravity of the matter, but he was beyond it.

"Officer, I am going to kindly ask you to remain calm. This thing has been strung out for forty years. Let Laurie Strode fix what she broke." He'd lost track of time and found himself look to the clock. 11:03—his shift ended in almost an hour. "How about you just go home for the night," Barker sighed, rubbing his fatigued eyes. "Already got myself further into this love-story-gone-wrong shit than I anticipated."

The woman considered the offer, but couldn't bring herself to leave. She didn't feel safe, she felt like something awful was to come and there wouldn't be any way of stopping it. "No, it's fine. I'll leave same time as you."

"Suit yourself, just let me get another cup of joe before I pass out for the night." The sheriff pushed her aside and dragged himself to the room parallel to his. He yawned and fantasized about being back in bed, not to wake until the situation sorted itself out. Barker reached for the scorching pot that contained the dark, bitter drink with hopes it'd keep him awake for at least another hour. He began to pour a steady stream but heard a small shuffle followed by a creak in the floor and he arched a brow. It was only him and, at tops, four other people in the office, and they weren't in the room with him.

"Officer Joseph?" he called out, hoping to receive and answer, but he didn't. Barker stood but just shook his head, blaming his sleep deprived state for the odd occurrence. He looked back to the cup and it was filled to the brim, now overflowing onto his tanned skin. "Shit!" the man howled, pushing the pot back into place and slamming the cup on the pale counter. He frantically grabbed napkins and held it to his hand while murmuring strings of curses he never knew possible.

"You alright?" Diane paced to him, watching as he cleaned the mess.

"Yeah, just burnt my fucking hand," he murmured. It took him minutes to clean up and go back to his office, but once he did he focused on his hand and wondered if there'd be another call before his shift ended. Barker yawned and leaned back in his chair, his shoes drumming against the desk they laid on.

"Don't forget to turn down the furnace tonight! Officer Sandy won't be happy when he sees the electric bill climb again!" Diane called out, walking down the hall and back into her office.

"Alright," he called back, silently scorning the man for his fixation on such things. Officer Barker stared at his empty computer monitor then leaned forward to the radio and switched it on, wondering if there would be any news on Michael, but there was nothing. All the man could hear was some chatter about a speeding van, but other than that, Haddonfield was clear for the night. He hummed and closed his eyes, singing along to a song in an inexperienced high pitch as if no one could hear him.

After he finished his song with a less-than-superb voice, there was a moment of silence and he reached for his warm mug. He pressed the ceramic to his mouth and sipped, but once he did a scream sounded and a crash followed. He promptly slammed the cup down in fright. Barker's heart raced—could it really be? The man pushed the thought away and stood.

"Diane?" he called out wearily, slowly inching toward the door in anticipation. He pressed his head against the doorframe and closely listened to the silence—a bone chilling crack followed. "Aw hell," the sheriff shivered, walking ahead, gun in hand and ready to shoot. "Who the hell is there?" Barker shouted, his voice echoing, "whatever unfortunate son-of-a-bitch is here, make your presence known." His feet led him to the woman's office after a whole minute of contemplating whether he should or not.

Diane sat, her head completely rotated in a way it shouldn't have been. Her eyes were partially opened and held a glassy look, as if the life from them were rudely taken away. The officer's bones were protruding through her neck from the twist, leaving the blood to slowly drip, saturating the thirsty white paper. The scene was fresh, but there was no one else in the desolate room.

Barker's eyes widened and he backed away; he was doomed. "No fuckin' way!" he yelled, prepared to run out the door and make an urgent radio call. Then he heard muffled breathing. The sheriff gulped and he began to experience an episode of panic as he turned toward the noise, and sure enough the impassive latex disguise bore into him. He eyed the figure and stared at the navy overalls then back to the hidden eyes. The man tried to find something, anything, but there was simply nothing to be discovered from the "human" eyes. Sheriff Barker backed away and his clammy hands held the pistol, but his finger kept slipping from the trigger. "Michael," he begged, "if you have anyone to go to it's Laurie Strode! I only broke down the facts!" Barker's hopes of surviving plummeted.

The shape walked toward, and Barker took one step back for every step forward Michael took. He reached out to grip the man's throat—an easy prey.

Barker wanted to struggle but he couldn't. He knew everyone in the office had left for the night and he didn't have Diane to run to. The sheriff weakly gripped the firm hand on his neck, his skin contrasting with the masked man's. "I never hurt her," he gasped as the palm began to pulp his neck, contracting until he could no longer inhale. The man's eyes rolled up back into his skull and he openly put himself in Michael's wrath. There was nothing he could do.

The shape began to crush the thick bones of the sheriff with ease and watched calmly, not making a sound. He didn't stop until he heard a few attempted gasps then a crunch followed by the sheriff choking in his own blood. _Satisfying._

Michael threw the body to the floor in disregard and looked to the door. He had yet to finish.

  


* * *

  


  


The streetlights passed by like flashes to the tired eye. The longer the night became, the falser it all seemed. Reality became like a nightmare or some awful hallucination. There was no perception of time; the chase had gone on for a mere day (or at least to everyone's knowledge) but to Laurie forty years. Allyson knew her grandmother treated protecting her family from Michael like a job—it made her wonder if Laurie felt like it was all some dream as well.

"Where do you think he went?" Allyson broke the silence that had consumed the vehicle for the past hour. The girl attempted to wake herself by sitting up in the uncomfortable seat.

Laurie made a slow turn and sighed. "He could be anywhere. He's coming though, it's just a matter of when." She looked ahead to the street signs and was taken aback to find she was already on Karen's street. She wasn’t sure if Michael covertly followed her or not. "Remember: anything I told you in this car is not to be heard by your mother, at least not until this is all over."

The red-head nodded and stared as the black truck turned and crept into the driveway of her home. She turned to click her seatbelt off but was bewildered to spot an unknown vehicle parked there. It sat menacingly and for the life of her, Allyson couldn't recognize it. She nervously grabbed her grandma's hand, praying it wasn't Michael and that her mom was safe inside. "Who's that!?"

"I'm assuming that's your grandfather," the woman replied, parking the car and turning the key in the ignition. Laurie was about to leave the car but looked to Allyson, who seemed terror-stricken at the word. She smirked. "Your _adoptive_ grandfather."

Allyson sighed and leaned back, her heart nearly unable to recover from the shock. As much as her grandmother spent her life in panic, she had her moments of cruel humor. "Don't scare me like that," she stated jokingly, but the teen couldn't help but wonder why he was there. Her mom had told her about that man but always in anger for abandoning her. It was odd growing up with her only grandparent being Laurie. Ray's parents had passed before she was born, and John was just gone. As for Michael, she hadn't even known he was her true grandfather until last night. "Why would he be here? After all these years of, well...nothing?" Allyson inquired.

The blonde shrugged and opened her door, hopping out of the car and onto the dry pavement with a large clack. "Guilt, I guess. He would've been better staying gone," Laurie admitted lamely. She watched as Allyson followed her, but it was obvious something was on her mind. "What is it?"

"What do I say to him? Do you think mother is mad?" she stuttered, walking to the front door with Laurie.

"Just don't worry. I'll handle it," Strode stated confidently, acting as Allyson's protection from Karen. She made her hand into a fist and knocked at the door, not prepared to see the man who left her and her daughter. Her and Allyson didn't need to wait long before the front door opened, however, and they were greeted with Karen's worry.

"Where the hell were you two!?" the woman scolded, letting both into the warm home and out of the chilly November night. She shut the door and grabbed her mother's shoulder briskly; the woman cost her too much worry to just let her walk away. "I've been calling, I've been texting, but no one answered me!"

Laurie sighed and rested her hand on top of the woman's as if to comfort her. "We're fine. Allyson's fine, I'm fine," she assured, "but we had a run-in and if we don't prepare, none of us will be fine."

Karen eyes widened, "Run-in!? You had a run-in with him!?" She couldn't believe it. If they weren't in danger before, they most certainly were now that he was found, or he found them.

"Mom, I did, she just saved me," Allyson murmured, her eyes diverting to the ground. "It was my fault. I should've listened to both of you, I'm sorry."

Laurie shook her head, not accepting the girl's apology. She had let her sensitized mother best her too many times and Laurie forbid Karen from winning. "Allyson, baby, it's not your fault. He was going to find us anyway." She stared at her daughter in disappointment, wondering if she understood even half of the situation. "Karen, I know you're going through a lot, but for god’s sake, just realize what I've gone through for the past forty years. Get it together."

The woman felt as if she'd been shot and stood back. The only thing she realized was that Laurie had lied to her her whole life in the process of ruining it. "We're talking about the fact you two could've been murdered!" Karen snapped. "That's not okay, mom! That's my daughter and you just put her in danger!"

Allyson stood between the two and began to feel claustrophobic, unable to handle the back and forth. She was always stuck in the middle and she hated it. The girl clenched her eyes shut and hesitantly clamped her hands over her ears, trying to shut it out. Why couldn't they just forget the past and move forward, especially at a time like this? They both had some connection to the masked man, but neither of them used it as a way of bonding. Karen was in the center of the picture, but she acted as if she weren't in it at all. It took one yell from her mom before she lost it.

"Mom!"

Karen halted, looking to her upset daughter and her mouth shut. She was going to engage, but it wasn't in her best interest to become mad at her daughter who'd just had an awful experience and lost a friend in the process. She exhaled and put a hand on her hip, attempting to decompress. "Allyson, honey, why don't you just make a cup of tea or something. You don't understand—"

"No, I do understand, mom. You don't understand, that's the problem!" Allyson shouted as loudly as she could, causing a deafening silence to flood the room. She watched as the two women gaped in shock, but a voice intervened before they could.

"Karen, just listen to your mother. He is on the move and there's a damn good chance he'll be here in mere hours," John stated calmly. He leaned against the wall at a distance and gazed at the woman he hadn't seen in over thirty years. She'd changed. Her eyes were strong, staunch unlike the weak, scared ones he'd last known. It was a face he thought he'd never see again. "Hello, Laurie."

Laurie stared at the man, noting he, too, had changed. His eyes were now empathetic, kind, unlike the dazed, distant ones she'd known, but that didn't change how she felt. "John," she stated in a sarcastic manner, "what prompted you to stop by after thirty-three years of abandonment?"

The man walked toward her, nodding his head as if accepting punishment. "I know what I did wasn't fair, but I do know it helped you stay strong for your daughter." John bit his lip and nervously looked down at the woman, knowing she was expecting more than just the simple sentiment. "Listen...I didn't understand what you were going through when you were my wife, but now I do. I'm sorry I ever made you feel alone about Michael, it was just hard to believe. Once I saw he came back, it finally dawned on me that," he swallowed, "that this was a reality for you. You didn't prepare for nothing." The man's silver locks glistened in the light of the home and he silently pleaded for some forgiveness. "Laurie, I want to help. Let me back in and I promise I won't leave. Not again."

"Fine," the woman nodded in agreement. It was how she'd always wanted him to feel, but it seemed too late. She looked to Allyson and Karen then to him and felt overwhelmed. It was all so different than she'd anticipated a mere week ago—kill Michael and move on. Laurie hesitantly moved ahead, awkwardly brushing past the taller man and leaving the three in the quiet room. She needed to think.

Karen could only shake her head disappointedly and put a hand on Allyson's shoulder, attempting to avoid what she assumed was her mother's stubbornness. The woman looked to John then back to Allyson, remembering the two hadn't met prior. "John this is Allyson, Allyson this is your grandfather," she stated somewhat-cheerfully.

Allyson brushed off her concerns about Laurie and timidly walked ahead to shake the stranger's hand. The moment she did it, however, it was as if he didn't feel like a stranger. They'd met on such peculiar terms that there wasn't a formal greeting to be had, but it was plain to see the man meant no harm, even to Laurie. He was simply a man who wanted to console and protect his family from something they were cursed with. John could have stayed away from a daughter and granddaughter that weren't his, but he chose not to because he knew them and knew they were suffering.

John gave a smile and let go of the girl's hand. "You look just like your mother when she was little. You've got her eyes."

Allyson smiled and reveled in the man's good-natured spirit. She sat and listened as he continued to talk about Karen and stories of her childhood. The girl listened, but she couldn't help thinking about her grandma or where she went off to. Was she crying or was she just thinking? Was she preparing or loathing John?

Almost thirty minutes of joking had passed, and Karen looked away, mortified at the stories he began to tell and promptly intervened. "Dad? Why don't we not talk about how I vomited in the car when I ate those two bags of cotton candy and move to something else." She gently hit Allyson's shoulder when she heard her chuckle and watched as John looked behind him. Karen was rudely reminded of her mother and the harsh words she'd said. The woman frowned, feeling guilty for lashing at Laurie when she already had enough baggage on her shoulders. "I should probably go talk to her."

John shook his head, looking back to Karen and holding a reassuring hand up. "I've got it," he muttered, turning away from Allyson and Karen and to the long hallway. He began to inch toward the end of the hall, wondering what to expect and it wasn't until he reached a closed door that he stopped and pressed his ear to it.

Laurie was crying.

The man's heart sank, and an overwhelming feeling of guilt followed. John slowly raised his hand and knocked at the door. He waited tensely outside the slab of wood and half-expected the woman to just ignore him or tell him to go away, but she cracked the door open. John stared ahead and frowned at the pain on her face. It wasn't like any pain he'd ever seen before. The pain Laurie held was one that coincided with love and fear. It was beautiful, but it was also so ugly. "May I come in?"

She nodded and shut the door once he was inside.

"Laurie—"

"I need you to take care of Karen and Allyson if something happens and I can't anymore," Laurie blurted in tears, her hand grabbing John's tightly.

John's eyes widened at the sudden attack of words and he looked to the hand grabbing his. He shook his head frantically. "What? I-Nothing is going to—"

"Promise me," Laurie interrupted, this time unyielding.

"Alright, alright." He nodded, accepting her terms with concern. The man's hand held Laurie's in a firmer grip. "Can you just tell me why you're saying all this? You're not one to accept defeat."

The blonde gulped and fresh tears stung her wrinkled cheeks. "I just have a feeling, John. I've prepared to fight him, but never speak to him and I-I don't know what's going to happen," she whispered.

John was taken aback. _Speak to him_. Was she really going to do it? His heart sped. It was what he'd always told her to do for her own sanity, he just thought the woman never had it in her. "Laurie," he paused, "what makes you think that won't be the antidote to all of this? Michael has never heard why you had done the things you did. He's never heard some apology for leaving him alone in a world he needed you in. Why would he want to kill his only love if she needs him and he needs her?"

Laurie sniffled and pulled a lock of her hair back, shrugging weakly. "Evil is a hard thing to dissuade. What if my words just aren't enough?" She shifted her weight from one foot to another. "I wanted to run away from him for the longest time, but how could he know I needed him when I was the one that killed him?" her voice diminished to a mere whisper that made a chill run down the John's spine.

"Nothing is going to happen to you. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever. You're a fighter, but you are also passionate—that's your weapon. Use it," John argued. He watched as her sad eyes became clouded in thought and he pulled Laurie forward. His arms wrapped around her desperately and the man rested his head on top of hers. "I will not leave my family no matter what happens. Our daughter and granddaughter will be safe, that I can promise you."

"Thank you." Laurie returned the embrace, her eyes shutting and releasing their final tears. She held on for dear life, praying this story wouldn't end in tragedy, but hope. If Michael showed any sign of hesitance then she'd know, but if he didn't, there wasn't any hope to be had.


	11. The Warning

_November 1st, 1963_

Brisk footsteps echoed in the empty hall where not a splash of color was to be found save for the olive painted doors spread in neat intervals. There, a man approached a weary couple and couldn't fight a feeling of unease, something he’d never experienced given his expertise. His expertise? He was a doctor and happened to be a very good one. He was possibly the best in Smith's Grove or Illinois, and he was provoked by the new patient he'd received. As far as he knew, this patient was desperately in need of help, more help than his other patients, but he was also the youngest of them. It posed a challenge he’d never prepared to face. The man before him appeared shocked and the woman traumatized. They both had brunette hair and pale skin, but their eyes were unalike.

"Mrs. Myers? Mr. Myers?" The doctor stopped, holding his hand to the man apprehensively.

Mr. Myers snapped out of his trance and sheepishly smiled at the nearly-bald man. "That'd be us," he greeted warmly, giving a firm hand to the shorter man in front of him. He sounded joyous, but what he felt was the antithesis.

"I'm Doctor Samuel Loomis and I will be treating your son. I just have a few questions before I visit Michael. Would you mind following me?" Loomis requested courteously, motioning ahead. He watched as the two complied and wondered if they had any explanation for Michael’s murder of his sister followed by catatonia. The Doctor figured it was mere shock and hoped by the end of the day his new patient would utter even a word to him, but he never anticipated it being impossible. Nothing to him was impossible. Every patient had a source of trauma, all curable, but he'd never witnessed something that was simply incurable.

"To your right," the Doctor instructed, closing the door behind him. "Take a seat please, make yourself comfortable. I just have questions regarding your son and the details of his treatment." He sniffed and moved around to his scattered desk and promptly sat. "My apologies, I've been quite busy lately," he nervously chuckled, pulling a blank file out onto his desk. He reached in to grab a blank form and made a satisfied "ah", then looked to the two concerned parents, clicking his pen in anticipation. "So, it is to my knowledge your son was born Michael Audrey Myers on October 19th, 1957 at Haddonfield Memorial?"

"Yes," Mr. Myers confirmed, watching as the man scribbled.

"Were there any complications at birth?" Doctor Loomis questioned eagerly. He waved his pen, "Was he born prematurely? Was he high-risk? Anything of the sort?"

"No," Mrs. Myers finally spoke. "He was born a healthy, normal boy."

Loomis nodded. "Can you confirm both of your names to be Edith and Donald Myers?" They both gave a nod and he continued to record, wondering if he could make any prognosis yet. "And his sister would be Judith Myers?" Another nod, but this time pained. "I would like to ask a personal question," he mused. "Has your son ever been abused or experienced any trauma that has impacted him in any way?" He watched as the two nervously shifted and it intrigued him. Was there a cause?

Donald gave an exhausted sigh and shook his head in guilt. "I can't say he has been abused, but, I—we've had our own issues in our marriage. We've had our fair amount of fights and all, had one too many drinks, but we've never laid a hand on our children," he defended.

Loomis gave a small nod as if to encourage them to continue, but he couldn't ignore the panic spread on Edith's face. Their marriage was a problem, but if Donald lied about it, that meant there was more than just a fair share of fights the kids had to have witnessed. It was too vital to skip. "And you, Edith? What problems would you say you've experienced in your marriage?"

The woman thought uncomfortably next to her husband who was eyeing her like a hawk. "I think—" but before she could continue, Donald interrupted.

"I've failed to mention that we've sometimes had physical fights," he nervously chuckled, "but nothing extreme. Nothing Judith and Michael ever had to worry about." The man sat back and moved his eyes from his wife and to the doctor.

Loomis hummed in satisfaction, but unbeknownst to the man, wrote about potential domestic abuse in the household. "Now what about Michael? How has he done in school, around others, around his sister?" He pressed his lips together. "Who _is_ Michael?"

The brunette woman gave a sad smile, as if yearning for the son she once knew. "He was a sweet boy. Always loving to his sister. I just wish Judith could have appreciated him more. I think he never felt content with his sister, me, or even Donald." She sat in thought. "Michael was a good student, but never made friends. He went to learn, but he was shy, spoke only when he needed to...even at home most of the time." Edith inhaled and pulled her hair behind her ears, her face becoming hot. "I remember him telling me something about being called names, but it-it's not clear. His teachers wanted him to speak, but maybe he was afraid. I just hope it wasn't my fault that I ever encouraged him to stay so quiet, so scared."

The doctor noted her observations and frowned. "I doubt it was anyone's fault. Michael's brain chemistry may just be different than anyone else in the family," he explained, hoping to console them.

Donald gulped, there wasn't truth in the statement. His brain chemistry was just like his side of the family, the part where certain disorders and illnesses lurked. "My father," he trailed, "was a sick man."

Loomis comprehended the words and the possibilities that followed. He leaned forward. This was promising. "Define sick, Mr. Myers."

"He heard things, at least that's what I know. Could never focus, always had these intrusive thoughts but never knew how to manage all of them." Donald shrugged and scratched his chin in thought, thinking back to his own childhood experiences with the man. "My father heard dead people among a sea of other voices, things that didn't exist. Always blamed it on his mom, though, for giving him such a condition."

"And you? Did you ever hear these voices or feel some sort of mental handicap?" Doctor Loomis inquired.

The man shook his head no.

He nodded and watched the two, pondering if he missed any crucial questions. The man put the pen down, folding his hands as if to conclude the short, but nonetheless intimate, interview. "I am sorry to both of you for your loss, but I assure you Michael is now in good hands." The man gave a weak smile.

"Michael's not going to sleep here. He's not going to feel safe. He'll get sadder and-and he'll be so lonely, more than he usually was," Edith protested. Her lips pouted and her eyes resembled glass.

He held his hand up to silence the woman's trepidations. "You'll be comforted to know he will have all the accommodations he would at home and both of you may come during our visiting hours of twelve to eight whenever you please." His fingers thumped against the desk, eager to meet the boy he'd already heard so much about. Loomis was curious as to what could prompt a rather normal, healthy six-year-old boy to murder his own sister. "Our charges will be at a minimum, seeing as his treatment will be rather long, but there will be progress daily. I'm afraid he has no one his age to socialize with, but after my sessions with him we will allow him to read, watch television, and if he is responsive, there will be allotted hours for schooling during the day."

Edith frowned, trying to accept she would no longer see her son until he was reformed. What hurt more, though, was knowing she couldn't come home to Judith. She was gone, and it was her son's doing. "May we take him out if we'd like?"

"I'm afraid not. At least not until he is declared safe to return to a normal day-to-day life. I'm guessing it may take years, but make no mistake, your son can be cured."

Donald gave a firm nod and thanked the doctor for his time. After finishing their discussion of financials and treatment, the man left the room with his wife.

As they were walked down the hall, Edith spoke.

"May I see him one last time before we go?" the woman asked Doctor Loomis desperately, her eyes begging him to say yes.

The man looked to the door. _A-2201_. "You may."

The brunette woman gave a small smile and after being motioned to the door, didn't hesitate to enter, and Donald followed. She gulped and turned around to face the pale, porcelain room. It was nothing like Michael's bedroom. It didn't have color, didn't have books or toys, didn't have a closet. This room was like a patient room, and Edith began to feel worse than she already did, but her son needed help.

She looked ahead to see Michael sitting on a chair, facing outside. This wasn't the kid she knew. Edith stepped forward but felt like she was approaching some stranger and not her own son. "Michael," her soft voice called, but there was nothing. "Honey, I—I don't know what you need from me. What you did," she paused, sniffling, "to Judy...that hurt us. That hurt us bad. But you know what?" Mrs. Myers was behind Michael and carefully positioned herself in front of the boy, though he was not looking at her. Edith shook as she grabbed her son's hand. "We still love you. We're going to fight for you because we want you to be a happy person again. Judy loves you and will forgive you." A scorching tear fell as she watched the stranger gaze. "But show her you're going to fight for yourself. This Doctor Loomis is going to heal you, so please listen to him, please talk to him, even if you can't talk to us."

Donald watched the scene and approached the two. "We'll miss you, Michael. We'll miss you and we'll miss Judy." He watched as his wife cried, but he couldn't stand there for long. The man pulled his wife away from Michael, but despite feeling sad about the fate of his son, he thought the boy a monster. Michael was cruel for taking his sister's life.

"Goodbye, Michael! I love you!" Edith pleaded in tears as Donald dragged her out of the room. She sobbed as her husband said his goodbye to Loomis and before she knew it, Michael was gone, and she was leaving him far behind. Donald would never let her see him, and Michael would always be a murderer in everyone's eyes—but she wouldn't live long enough to know someone somewhere would think of him as a human to be loved. She wouldn't know Michael would fall in love with that someone and he would be cured, but then it would break and self-destruct like it had before. It was a hopeless, destructive cycle.

* * *

Cold streets were flooded in leaves of every scarlet and amber variety. The bladed, brittle needles fell off the neatly lined white oak trees, but the scene was not still, nor was it forlorn. All of Haddonfield was blissfully unaware, not evacuated or prepared for potential ruin at the hands of the infamous native killer. They all thought Michael Myers was dead, but they never thought to blame Laurie for him threatening their town. No one knew she was the reason, but a select few did, and Tommy Doyle was one of them.

The red-head sat on the black leather sofa, his arm secured around his wife who was peacefully asleep. It was well past one in the morning and Lindsey, as well as himself, had their own fears and trepidations about Michael's return. Tommy had informed Lindsey about his brief reunion with Laurie and in a frenzy told her the aching truth—that Michael and Laurie had been more to each other than just predator and prey. They loved each other, but it didn't help Lindsey, in fact, it made her more frightened. They spent the day preparing, watching, and keeping their children safe.

Tommy watched as the woman's chest beside him rose and fell, only wishing he could feel that same sense of peace. For the moment he felt vulnerable, but not as vulnerable as Laurie and her family had to have felt. There was no question they'd be confronted by the killer, he just hoped the impossible would transpire: Michael finding the humanity to spare his daughter, granddaughter, and former partner. He wanted that emotionless figure to become aware, so aware he would scare himself away from his previous inclinations.

_Ring_

The sound startled Tommy as well as Lindsey and both went from sleepy to alert.

"Who is that?" the woman panicked.

"Don't know," he spoke softly, pulling himself off from the cushion and over to the ringing device. He watched it nervously and picked up, holding the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

Nothing could be heard, not even static.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"The boogeyman," a voice stated plainly, but a grim chuckle followed.

"Lonnie?" Tommy Doyle sighed, leaning against a wall in relief. "Don't do that! Now what's up? I was in the middle of watching something." He was oddly well-aquatinted with his childhood bully nowadays, but they still had their disagreements.

"Have you seen Cameron today? Last time I talked to him he was picking up his girlfriend, uh—Laurie Strode's granddaughter, Ray Nelson's daughter."

Tommy became worried yet intrigued. He knew Ray Nelson as a friend of Lonnie's, he went to school with him and was older than both, but nonetheless he knew him. How fortuitous was it that an old friend happened to be part of another old friend's family? "I-I haven't seen Cameron at all, but I have seen Laurie," he admitted.

"Did you?" he asked, shocked. "Lord, if something happened to Cameron because of that woman I'll be pissed." Lonnie paused and continued to linger on the Strode family, finding fault with them. "Never liked that Laurie Strode as a kid, I'll tell you that. I think it's funny how whenever this Michael Myers is around, he's always after her. Kills unfortunate sons of bitches in his path, but the goal is always her. Haven't you noticed that?"

Doyle cringed. It wasn't his business to tell the world Laurie's story, but she didn't deserve the disrespect thrown on her name. "She was a kind person...she doesn't want anyone to get hurt."

Lonnie paused and licked his bottom lip. "Did I ever tell you?"

His heart sank and felt like a cold pile of bricks. "Ever tell me what?"

A sardonic chuckle sounded. "I remember I saw her once after that Halloween night, and I knew she was hiding something. I was with my mom at the market," he recalled, not having told anyone the tale.

Doyle arched a brow. "And what happened?" The man became worried Laurie had more unknown secrets.

"And she didn't look happy. She looked sick, stressed, I just knew something was happening to her," Elam explained rather grimly. "We were just on summer break, I think around late June of '79. I knew she didn't babysit you anymore, someone else did, I saw you and the other girl together, but she wasn't Laurie and I had been wondering why. Everyone loved Laurie, thought her and her family were the sweetest, my parents even thought so. Well I happened to know Laurie had just graduated because a family friend, Ben Tramer, was in her class, he briefly knew her."

Doyle was taken aback. That was who he thought she was with all along, not Michael. "You knew the Tramers?"

Lonnie gave a hum. "That day I walked by her and someone who was with her, looked like her mom, and I happened to notice she had, get this, supplies for a baby, _a baby_ , in her cart," he raised his voice, attempting to make a point. "This wasn't just gifts, I mean she had a nice number of things with her and I wondered who it was for. Well I got closer, tried to be secretive about it, and," he paused dramatically, "I saw it. I saw she was pregnant, I swear on it. She seemed to be hiding her stomach, did a damn good job of it as well with that frilly dress she was wearing. She was unhealthily skinny at the time and her stomach wasn’t all that big, but it was good enough to know, Doyle. It was clear as day. So, my mom looks over to see Laurie's mom, Pamela was her name, and says hello. Well the two start talking and I just stood there because I couldn't stop looking at Laurie and what she was trying to hide. Half way through the conversation she notices Laurie by the cart and looks at it, asks whose baby all those things are for. Get this—she said it was for her baby cousin who had yet to be born. Her mom followed suit. They were both in on this, but I noticed Laurie looked down to see me staring at her stomach, so she panicked and turned away. After that, I was curious, months later I finally asked some kids I knew what happened to her. You know what they said? That she left with Bennett. But no one brought up pregnancy."

Tommy shook his head. "Well did Ben take off with her?"

"Nope," Lonnie said confidently. "Never touched that girl, never knew her all that well. Told me himself. I asked him why everyone thought they were together, happened to be that my cousin got a call from one of Laurie's friends Halloween night and told him she liked him. He was interested and was told they'd be going to the homecoming dance together. Well the dance canceled, and Laurie had been hospitalized, her friends dead. After that, Ben had mentioned there was rumors all over the school, who Michael Myers was, why he killed Laurie's friends specifically then tried to kill her. They brushed it off as some haphazard killing spree from some psycho after it was leaked by Mike Godfrey that Laurie liked Ben. But I couldn't ignore the fact he was nearly the same age as her, less than four years older."

Tommy gulped, he was onto it. He knew, he had to. "What are you saying, Lonnie?"

Lonnie scoffed, disappointed he was not understood. "I'm saying there has got to be a connection between Myers and Strode! I don't know the specifics, how it happened, rape or whatnot, but god damnit I know that was his child she was carrying! Bennett was just some easy cover story!"

"What if it was his child? Would it matter?" Tommy inquired, tongue-tied. He attempted to protect Laurie, even if Lonnie had worked out the facts to a tee.

"It would, because my son got thrown into all this! I refuse to believe Michael's dead. He never died from a couple bullet wounds so what challenge would fire be!? If I am correct, Cameron is dating Michael's granddaughter. That's a big deal! I swear if something happened to him," he choked, not wanting to fathom it, "I'll kill that whole family before Myers ever could."

"Elam, you need to calm down. That family is innocent, all of them. If you're right, they didn't ask to be in this situation. I doubt any of them saw it coming!" Tommy frowned and his hand gripped his phone tighter. "I'm sure your son is fine, but I'll be on the lookout. Take a breath, focus on what's rational."

Lonnie gave a defeated sigh. "Maybe you're right. Stay safe, Doyle. Thanks, man."

Tommy gave a sigh of relief once he heard the phone hang up and placed the phone back on the table. He felt scared enough for Laurie and her family, now he had to worry about Elam and if his son would be okay. All Lonnie had to say was true. Michael was out and there was no doubt he could've been in Haddonfield as they spoke.

"Sweetie, who was that?" Lindsey called from the sofa, having listened to the conversation in curiosity.

"It was Lonnie. He hasn't seen his son all day, just knew he was out with Laurie's granddaughter," he said in a near whisper, "Ray's daughter."

She lifted herself from the couch and stood, approaching her husband. The woman, too, knew Ray, but she never knew he had any part in the Strode name. "You mean Laurie is Ray's mother-in-law!? Which would make Michael his—"

"Father-in-law," Tommy interjected with a nod. "Makes me wonder if Michael killed his son-in-law without a second thought, would he hesitate to kill Laurie's family, his family?"

Lindsey looked away for a brief second, not wanting to fathom the possibility. "God, I hope not. If he was sane with Laurie before, why not now? He was once there, once happy. He could leave his evil ways and just...just try to spare their lives, recognize they're not enemies," she pleaded more to herself than anyone else.

Doyle silently agreed, wondering if or when the worst was to come. He was answered when he noticed the headlights of a car moving slowly down the street. "Lindsey," the red-head gasped, "stand back, I need to look at this."

"Look at what?" She watched Tommy's eyes become transfixed to the window and made herself turn toward it. Lindsey saw the questionable vehicle as well. "Is that—"

"I don't know, get back," he said louder, this time commanding her to move away. Once she stepped aside, Tommy crawled to the window fast enough to catch a glimpse of the car. He narrowed his eyes to focus on the driver who appeared stiff. He saw a nose, some matted hair, but it felt like staring at an alien. He had no doubt it was the masked man and Doyle gasped, pulling his blinds shut before attention was drawn to his home.

"Oh my god, it's him, isn't it?" Lindsey gasped, her mouth hanging in surprise. She grabbed Tommy's sleeve tightly, not wanting to let go of the man.

He frantically nodded. "I need to call Laurie, she isn't safe, no one is." Doyle walked to the phone and held it, realizing he didn't have Laurie's number, but he did have Ray's. The man scrolled through his contacts and finally found Ray Nelson. He didn't hesitate to hit the call button.

* * *

"Allyson, Karen, you two will hide downstairs. You will lock yourself in the pantry, you will take the phone and your gun with you, and you will not come out until you are told it's safe. Understand?" Laurie's voice shook, looking to the upset pair staring back at her.

"But—" Allyson argued.

"No buts. Just follow my instruction and you _will_ live." The woman shook, grabbing both of their hands firmly before turning to John. "Michael may not recognize you, John, that makes you the biggest target of us all. Your job is to protect them down there, then hide under the stairs. If you don't hear me, if I'm gone," she muttered, making the three uncomfortable. "You need to evacuate. Leave and do not come back."

_Ring_

The room seemed to stop, and everyone's heads nervously looked toward the direction of the sound. Karen cocked her head because she knew the tune. It was one she hadn't heard in days, but it was familiar, and she felt a pang of yearning. "That's—That's Ray's," she gasped, standing cautiously before moving toward the noise. The caller had stopped for a moment and the woman grabbed the phone that once belonged to her husband.

"Mom?" Allyson questioned.

She jumped once the phone in her hand rang again and she nervously picked up, holding the screen to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey," the voice replied nervously, "is Laurie Strode there?"

Karen nodded, not bothering to question how the caller knew Ray. "She is." The woman looked over to her mom and motioned her over.

Laurie arched a brow and shuffled to her daughter, grabbing the phone. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Laurie!" the man on the line replied almost joyous. "This is Tommy Doyle, you need to listen to me!"

"What is it, Tommy?" Strode asked cautiously, feeling a pit form in her stomach.

"I saw him. I saw Michael, Laurie. He's here."

The woman sharply inhaled, feeling the wind knocked out of her chest. She always thought she'd be ready, but she never was, no matter how much she prepared. Laurie gripped the phone. "Thank you, Tommy. Be careful, stay inside."

"Laurie, I want to help!" Doyle refuted.

"You can't. Stay out of this," she hissed, hanging up on Tommy before he could persist. Once she laid the phone back down, all eyes were glued to her.

"Mom?" Karen inched forward, not fond of her reaction.

"He's here," Laurie trembled.

Karen's lips parted and she wanted to cry, to scream, to sob, but she was speechless. Michael had terrified her but now in a different way than days, years prior. She had to fight with the fact he was her blood—he was the one thing she could never have as a child when she needed him, or someone like him.

John flinched upon hearing a small noise and his head whipped away from where the women stood. He looked to Laurie but before a word was uttered, the lights and any source of power was cut from the home.

Allyson shook and looked around at the now dark room, unable to see anything, not even anyone's figure. She took a deep breath in and out and soon found herself hyperventilating. The girl felt John move behind her, and she clung to him. "Grandma?"

"Get the gun and go," Laurie whispered, "I have something to finish."


	12. Run and Hide

"Mom, I'm not ready, I can't do this—I can't!" Karen exclaimed in a whisper-like scream, firmly grasping the sleeve of Laurie's jacket. She wasn't ready, not even from the moment she was told the truth. She needed time to accept her parentage, why her mom had done the things she had. What was she expected to do? Accept Michael Myers, her true father, was out to kill her and accept her mom's suicide mission trying to reach him?

Laurie grasped Karen's hand and looked to where the voice came in the darkness. "Yes you can, baby. Keep you and Allyson safe, that's all you need to do," she reassured firmly, but she could barely hear her own voice over the thumping of her heart. Once she turned, she found the whole home in darkness. They needed to act fast, their lives depended on it. "We need light. Hand me Ray's phone."

As Karen fished around the table looking for the device, Allyson realized that she was without hers. Her hands dug into her pockets frantically, though she knew it was gone. It bothered her it was sitting in that car, Cameron's car, available for the masked killer to snatch. The girl shuddered, a chill falling over her after realizing she'd led Michael right to them. A blinding light from the back of Ray's phone instantly filled the room.

"It's time," Laurie murmured, reaching behind her to grab the rifle she laid beside the wall. She held it firmly, trying to focus on what she needed to do. She thought it'd be an easier task to try speaking, but it seemed simpler to fight, to kill Michael before he could hurt her again, though she knew she hurt him far deeper than the stab of a knife. "You all need to go downstairs! I put the guns in the closet!"

"Grandma," Allyson pouted, her voice shaking, "you're not going to be okay alone." Her fingers clawed into her arm, panicked for her grandmother's fate and that Michael was among them. She wanted to feel bad about leading him to them, but Laurie wanted him to come from the start. She wanted to risk everything for this moment. The girl darted forward and wrapped her arms around the older woman tightly, her tears freely flowing. "Don't go! I don't want you to go!" If anything happened to her, Allyson knew it would be her fault she hid whilst her grandmother was in danger.

The woman lowered her gun and laid it down hesitantly, embracing the shaking girl. Laurie frowned and her hand moved to rest behind the girl's head, stroking the soft locks that reflected in the light of the phone. "I love you, I love you so much," she whispered, frightened. Tears formed and stung the corners of her eyes. This could be the end, the last time they saw her, or worse—the last time she saw any of them. If Michael hurt Karen or Allyson, she wouldn't hesitate to kill him. That was family and even the evil within knew that. "Karen, baby come here."

Karen obeyed and held her arms out, folding them around both Laurie and Allyson. "I'm sorry, mom, for never believing you, for being a reminder, for being him," she choked, her grip tightening before letting her mother face the thing that ruined her life. The thing that made her.

Laurie broke the embrace with both and sniffled, turning to Karen. Her hands rested on her cheeks gingerly. There were so many things she wanted and needed to tell her daughter, Michael's daughter, but there wasn't enough time. "You were never a regret. You are everything to me. I love you and I loved every second being your mother." She gave a weak smile. "I'm sorry I ever lied to you," the woman said somberly, "I always thought I was saving you, but I-I ruined a lot for you, baby."

John stood watching the scene and bit his lip, hearing another noise. As much as it warmed his heart to see the two finally reach forgiveness, they were out of time. Michael was breathing down their necks. "We need to go, Karen."

"Mom—"

"Go," Laurie demanded, holding both Karen and Allyson's hands once more. "You two need to protect yourselves." She gave a final squeeze and looked to John, giving him a nod.

"I love you, Grandma," Allyson pleaded before feeling John place a gentle hand on her shoulder to lead her and Karen ahead. She looked over, studying Laurie's face before she left. All she wanted was some happy ending with all of them in it, but she knew her wish wouldn't be granted so easily, or at all.

"Keep them safe," Laurie begged, cocking her rifle. She watched as the three made their way toward the stairs.

"You have my word," the man reassured, walking away from his former wife and to safety. His head turned toward the staircase leading to the basement and gave a small nudge to his daughter's shoulders. "Karen, go ahead," John commanded, leading her down the dark, daunting stairs. Once the woman's feet shuffled down the steps, he continued to lead Allyson down, making sure they went unnoticed as they descended. He placed a heavy shoe to the surface and gave a hearty sigh in an attempt to relieve his anxiety. John couldn't, however, help but look to Laurie one last time before he would perhaps never see her again. He hoped that wouldn't be the case.

"Laurie."

The woman's head turned to the man and she savored his presence, trying to find faith in it before she was alone. "Yes?"

"I love you...I've always cared about you. You're stronger than I ever could be," he admitted, feeling Laurie's fear radiate. He gave a final nod and looked to the two waiting for him, walking away from Strode out of fear he wouldn't be able to leave her. "Get to the pantry and lock it, I'll check everything then give you your guns. I promise I'll stay under the stairs. Give one knock on the door if you need me."

Karen pouted and looked to the door, feeling as if she left a part of her behind. "She's not going to be okay out there, is she?"

John hung his mouth open, but no answer came. He wasn't sure, but it was a given there'd be damage, physically and mentally. "Can't say. She needs this though..."

Allyson nodded in agreement. The truth was Michael, alive, was her key to freedom, but it would be a battle to find it. The teen looked to the door and was prepared to move to safety, but the clunk of a boot sounded, a boot that none of them were wearing. She sharply inhaled and initially wondered if she had just gone mad, but to her dismay the others had heard it clearly. "John?"

"Shh," he interrupted, moving in front of the two in uncertainty. He held his arm out so neither could approach and inched forward, trying to pick up even a crumb of noise that would lead him in the direction of the step. John arched a brow and stood with his gun aimed toward the shadows of the room, but it was already too late. He couldn't see the sudden movement before him.

The shape swiftly and silently emerged from the darkness and shot his arm forward without hesitation. He instinctively clamped a strong hand around John's throat without the intent to stop until all life ceased from his being. It heard screams from behind the victim, but was focused on the man within his hold. Once he saw the gun his victim held he grabbed it and tossed it to the side with a clunk before he could aim.

Karen stared at the blank mask and instinctively pushed Allyson back. Her heart fluttered and she could only watch John thrash in Michael's grip, his face becoming pale. It was hard enough to look at the masked killer, but now it was harder. That thing used to be human and felt love for Laurie.

"Dad!" Karen blurted to John, taking one step forward before realizing the single word held value, even if Michael was blank. Her dad was the entity before her, not the man gasping for air. She noticed a slight falter in the masked killer's actions and her throat clenched, making her queasy. Did he really know?

John stared back to the blank eyes and he, too, felt the slightest falter, but what followed was the hand's forceful grip and this time it wasn't out of pure desire to kill; it was out of emotion, out of anger. He gasped and thrust his hands onto Michael's with a harsh slap, but it was no use. There was passion in the grip and he wondered if it was some defense mechanism his evil used to defeat any true feeling. He wished he could persuade Michael to drop him and stop, but it was too deadly a risk.

"Grandma!" Allyson screamed intuitively, her feet nearly sliding across the floor as she ran back up the stairs, but she was already there, rifle in her hand upon hearing the screams. The girl reached out for Laurie like she were some guardian angel and pointed to the scene, tears welling in her eyes.

Laurie gulped and moved forward with haste, looking to Karen who was staring forward in shock. Her eyes hesitantly looked to Michael who was nearly done killing John. The sight made her panic. "Karen get back!" she screamed, aiming directly at the mask's head. But Michael halted and was now staring directly at her. She had to beg herself not to take the easy route and simply shoot him before he progressed. She looked behind her and grabbed Allyson's arms. "Go! Go and hide!"

John felt the grip loosen and he was abruptly swung to the side as the gun had been, but his head was slammed against the plaster wall, causing it to crack. Slowly, blood seeped from the impact and before panic set in, his consciousness was ripped away from him. He wouldn't be able to protect anyone like he promised, only Laurie could.

Karen gasped in horror at the sheer disregard for John's life and whipped her head around, reaching out to grab Laurie and haul her up the stairs. None of her wishes were granted, though, as a hand snatched the back of her sweater, pulling her back into the dark abyss. Her chest went cold as did her hands and mind before recognizing she was doomed. She felt the air kicked out of her lungs; Michael was going to hurt her. He had no intent of letting go. "Mom!" she cried, throwing her head back as Michael pulled the fabric until threads came loose and her shoulders stung from the pressure.

Laurie yelled as she watched Michael pull Karen back. She didn't know if he was capable of being so cold, so evil as to kill his child without trepidation. She lunged forward, grabbing Karen's torso and pulling her away from his grip, refusing to let go until she had her daughter in her arms and out of his. "Grab onto me, baby!" Laurie commanded, looking to the pale mask in fear. She heard Karen's cries and felt her daughter's limbs slowly weaken, as if she were surrendering to Michael, but Laurie refused to give up. "Michael!" she pleaded, her throat stinging. Her eyes stayed glued to his less-visible ones, but he was still insistent on taking her.

"Mom, go!" Karen bawled, sliding her hands off Laurie's arms before feeling a strong hand grab hers. She could deal with her father killing her if it meant saving her mom's life.

Strode ignored the plea and gritted her teeth, her heart thumping. "MICHAEL" she raised her voice in despair, "let go of her!" But there was nothing. She cried and gave a harsh pull. Suddenly, she felt a need to try and make some connection, anything to save Karen. Laurie prepared herself, then looked to the mask.

"Let go of _our_ daughter!"

The scream was loud, and the room became dense, quiet. Michael still held Karen's arm, but his grip was loosening, his fingers lifting without force. He only stared at Laurie, who swiftly pulled Karen back, bewildered Michael let her slide right through his hands. There was some recognition or processing happening. As scary as it was, it offered hope.

Karen sharply inhaled and sniffled, wiping her tears before cowering behind Laurie. She watched the scene and expected the masked man to lunge forward and kill her mother where she stood, but he was still staring without movement. Her eyes observed his and she shook, unable to understand why Laurie said such a thing or why Michael exhibited reaction. Karen couldn't find the words to explain it, all she knew was the softer grip after Laurie's words didn't feel like some entity trying to kill her as it had before.

"Mom? W-W—"

"Michael?" Laurie repeated gently. She watched on, but nothing told her it was or wasn't Michael. It was as if she were watching some invisible battle before her eyes. She wanted Michael to win, to let go of the evil and not let it overpower him, but it won, as the stillness didn't last for long. Michael pounced desperately, as if he needed her to perish before she spoke another word, but Laurie was sharp and leaped backwards before he could touch her. She pushed Karen and began to run up the stairs, but Michael was closely following them and there was no room for error. "Karen, go find Allyson! Go!"

Karen looked back to see Michael behind Laurie and stopped. "I-I can't leave you, mom!" She gasped once the woman grabbed her shoulders and threw her ahead.

"Yes, you can, baby! GO!" she demanded, running opposite of Karen so Michael could leave her. Her legs led her to the kitchen and she held her gun tightly, but when she turned around there was not a single soul in sight and she wondered if he had followed Karen. Laurie gulped and held her gun out, taking a deliberate step back before observing the table where Ray's phone laid. There was not a single sound or alteration in the home but she knew it was just an illusion. He was there.

There was a soft ticking of a furnace, then a step and Laurie turned toward it, but nothing was present. The process continued until she stood still in anticipation; then there was a step behind her and an arm raised above her head. She glanced up, but only the glistening, unforgiving point of a blade flashed before her eyes.

Laurie gasped and attempted to move, but a stinging pain filled her side and an inexplicable heat followed. Adrenaline kicked in before her pain became distracting and she saw the once weaponless man now hold a sharp kitchen knife in his hand. She thrust her rifle out and made a quick decision. She needed to leave the house if Karen and Allyson were to stay safe. The woman ran toward a side door, Michael following.

Allyson choked on the air as she caught the sight of crimson flowing down her grandma's back. Laurie wasn't going to make it at the rate she was going. The girl looked away and frantically shuffled through the living room, coming across an iron blow poke hung by the fireplace. She gulped and grabbed it, trying not to avert Michael's attention to her with the soft jingle of iron. Allyson hesitantly moved both foot forward until she reached the doorway and saw where the action was. It didn't look good. Her eyes widened as she watched Laurie back away and Michael begin to corner her, his knife raising without delay.

"Grandma!"

Laurie stopped and looked to the girl in the doorway, almost forgetting Michael was in front of her, ready to finish her off. She gasped and quickly moved to the side. "Allyson, you need to go!" As she yelled, Michael attempted to stab her, but only stabbed the air.

The shape moved forward hungrily and watched as the terrified woman before him ran toward the girl who stood by the door. He gazed at the doorway then back to Laurie, but just as he raised his knife, a sharp pain filled his back and made him stumble forward. There was a clunk of his knife as it hit the floor and he hastily looked to the red-head that had hit him with the poker.

Allyson watched as the ravaged mask turned to face her and her lips trembled upon seeing his blank eyes. He took a step forward and her eyes welled up in tears; she regretted her decision. The man moved and as he did, Allyson felt weak, so weak he was able to snatch her weapon with ease. The girl let out a frightened scream and she backed away, her eyes never leaving the man. "Please," she pleaded, her legs shaking as she cowered.

"Michael!" Laurie roared, walking forward, rifle in hand. She cocked her gun and laid an unsteady finger on the trigger, this time not hesitant to shoot. If he took a step closer to Allyson or made an attempt to strike, Michael would be dead to her. The woman cleared her throat, but her panic rose once she noticed someone else now in the room: Karen. She looked to Karen, whose face was red with tears and shook her head silently, motioning her to go far away before the masked entity noticed her.

Karen paid no attention to Laurie. She sniffled and walked toward Michael and Allyson, wanting her daughter to flee from the sight. The woman didn't know what to do, but she figured if Laurie's words impacted him, she could use her own. This could be the only time she had a chance to reach her father. She gulped.

"Dad," Karen called out wearily, continuing to approach, "why are you doing this to us?" Another tear stained her cheek as adrenaline fueled her newfound confidence. "We're your family, I'm your daughter. Please-Please, don't do this," she sniffled. She watched as the man held the iron pole, and just as before, he paused.

He remained stagnant for a moment, then slowly turned to face her, his weapon lowering.

"I'm your daughter," Karen whispered to the masked face now staring at her. Her heart felt as if it were self-imploding. The stare wasn't cold, it wasn't even blank, because there was evidently a small glow within. Michael's consciousness seemed to be smacked into place upon his daughter's pleas and she had no doubt what she saw was the man within.

Laurie watched the scene in amazement, at both Karen and Michael, but refocused on Allyson. The woman slowly approached and placed a hand to her stinging back, unsurprised to feel warm blood coat her palm. "You need to go, baby...go with your mother right now," she whispered as she gently pushed Allyson away from the scene. The woman let go of the girl and refocused her attention to Michael, who was still staring at Karen.

Karen watched as Allyson walked toward her and the woman grabbed onto her, holding her close. She stared ahead to the mask and gulped as he made one step forward. It was so hard to tell what was happening. It seemed like a pained movement, like he were stepping forward with a weight tied to his ankle. He was battling something. Karen felt a tear prick her eye as she realized it truly was Michael desperately reaching out to have the light. "Dad?"

The woman watched as the man seemed to fight internally. Suddenly, a pained grunt sounded from the mask, but what followed was the raising of the pole. Karen's heart dropped upon recognizing Michael lost the fight inside and she screamed, running away while pushing Allyson ahead.

Laurie's heart fluttered and she once again held her gun out. "Drop it, Michael," she commanded, understanding somewhere within Michael heard her. She gasped for air and watched as Allyson and Karen moved away. The woman looked up to the masked face that stared at her and backed away, moving toward the sliding glass door. Laurie held her hand behind her, hastily unlocking it as Michael caught up with her. She threw the slab of glass open and just as she ran, felt the stinging heat of a slash.

The shape firmly grasped the knife in his hand and dropped the poker with an echoing clang. He threw his arm forward as he attempted to keep stabbing the woman, but she was fast. She knew how he moved.

Laurie cried out as the heat spread through her shoulder and became aware her rifle wouldn't do her much good. She glanced to the weapon and dropped it, kicking it off to the side, noticing Michael approach fast. Her hand dove into her pocket and she pulled out her hunter's knife, holding it out.

"Mom, I need to help her!" Allyson yelled, struggling in her mom's hold. She gasped for air and clung to the walls, but she could barely escape.

"You are not going out there!" Karen argued, pulling the girl back with all her might. "She's gotta do this herself, you're not getting hurt!"

The teen shook her head. She needed to do it herself, but she couldn't survive by herself. Allyson struggled as her fingers painfully dug into the plaster wall. She pulled away from Karen, who screamed at her to stop and stay out of the fight, but she couldn't stop. Laurie mattered to her and she knew Michael mattered to Laurie, but she couldn't bare leaving her to die. Allyson gave one more push forward and was able to break free of the strong hold. The girl turned to face her mother and frowned. "I'm sorry, mom."

Karen's eyes widened as the girl sprinted to the door. "Allyson!" she screamed. "Get back here! Listen to me!" Her mouth gaped as she watched Allyson throw herself out the door and into the yard where the fight ensued. She looked ahead to see Laurie with her knife and Michael approaching her, his arm held up with the intent to strike. The woman pulled herself up and instinctively ran ahead, but a hand caught hers and pulled her back. She gasped and looked behind her.

John's eyes fluttered as he regained consciousness and he yanked Karen back. "No...I made a promise to your mother you'd live. You can't go," he muttered apologetically. He watched as she flailed, feeling guilt for holding her back, but it wasn't her battle, it was Laurie's.

"That's my daughter! I need to get her!" Karen screeched, trying to pull away with tears in her eyes. She looked back to John and her limbs gave out, sinking away from the door in defeat. She was going to lose everything. She was going to lose it right before her eyes.

"I'm sorry, honey," John muttered. He pulled her closer and looked ahead, his eyes widening. It had all become surreal seeing it rather than hearing it. Laurie was going to have to fight with everything she had—words and all.


	13. The Fight Inside

Allyson sprinted to the sight of Laurie and Michael battling. She held her hands forward, her grandmother just in reach. It pained her to know her mom was watching, but Laurie couldn't lose, not after all she'd gone through. "Grandmother!" she called, but halted once Laurie backed away from a failed slash from Michael. It had already begun.

Laurie's chest stiffened and a sense of terror filled her. Nothing was going according to plan. This wasn't meant to hurt anyone, this was her story to end. She darted, grabbing Allyson while attempting to watch Michael chasing after her. "I told you to stay inside!" she scolded, running from the man faster than he could catch them.

"I can't leave you—"

The woman shook and, with one swift swipe, shoved her knife into her pocket. Laurie gulped and pushed her ahead, unsure of where to keep her. Given the deficiency of time, she elected on leading her to a bush, figuring Michael wouldn't bother approaching her from there. If she could protect Allyson, she would be okay. "Get under and don't come out no matter what!"

Allyson gripped her grandmother's arm and bit her lip. She felt as if she'd lost the ability to breathe. _No matter what?_ The possibilities were few and far between; Laurie would get out severely injured or face her fate. She was near to both. "I can't let you get hurt! I don't want you to die!"

Laurie shook her head frantically. "I will be fine, baby, I need you to get under here!" she demanded, taking the girl's shoulders to help her escape under the red and yellow array of leaves.

The girl continued to sob and looked to her grandma's frightened blue eyes. She loved her too much, she needed Laurie to stay, to be okay. Laurie needed some happy ending after the hell that consumed most of her life. Allyson gave her grandma's arm one last squeeze, prepared to say her goodbye's, but she promptly found the pale, masked face above them. Her diaphragm expanded with a sharp inhale. "Grandma!"

Laurie glanced back and panicked, throwing herself to the side. She tumbled to the ground then pulled herself up, returning the pocketed knife to her hands with alacrity. The woman looked up to Michael and gave a growl. "Allyson, stay there!" Her eyes surveyed as Michael took a step forward and she swiftly kicked her foot out to his tibia, to which he backed away in pain. Laurie pulled her knife, staring at the masked entity, but made no effort to move out of its way.

The shape stared ahead and held his knife intently, his objective just ahead. It wanted her dead, but there was a certain buzzing that made it difficult. It was a buzzing it’d never experienced before, a buzzing that got so intense it almost hurt, but nonetheless it approached.

Laurie gave a small cry and distanced herself, struggling to observe the figure and remind herself what she had to do: bring Michael back and free herself. Her eyes closed and a tear glistened as it fell off her cheek. They had a story, and she needed to explain her side of it. She owed Michael freedom as well, for he never knew why she left, why she hid everything, why she abandoned him when he needed her most. Laurie opened her eyes once more and he was approaching closer, faster.

"Michael!" she cried out, backing away with her knife held out. "I need you to listen to me," she sniffled, " **listen to me**!"

The shape moved forward, seemingly unaffected. He was ready to pounce, to watch the blood drain from her body, to win a forty-year fight. It was supposed to be simple, but it was the most onerous battle the shape had fought.

Laurie struggled to keep moving backward with the sharp pain shooting down her back. She was still losing blood. "I was wrong! I was wrong, Michael, for what I did to you! I want to explain now!" She gasped as he leaped forward and attempted to move, but it was to no avail. A sharp sting filled her shoulder, making her back away. It was like a dance and she too leaped forward, amazed to penetrate his side. Her knife dug deep into Michael's side, emitting an audible grunt from within the mask, but she had to pull the blade out before he took advantage of her closeness. Laurie wanted him alive, but she couldn't take hits. She would’ve been dead before the night ended if she didn't fight while trying to reach him.

The woman backed away and didn't stop, holding her knife out as her only means of protection. "I never should have left you the way I did!"

Their feet danced, dodging each other.

"I never stopped loving you, Michael! I-I felt so much guilt for starting something that would have been impossible to continue!" She ran as Michael held both hands out, one attempting to grab her and the other stab her. Another hot tear ran down her cheek and her heart beat rapidly—he needed to hear everything, she needed Michael to push this entity aside. "You were so scared to tell me about your sister Judith!" she pleaded. A wave of relief flooded her once he became slow again. Her foot moved back despite the stillness creeping upon him.

"I-I wanted you to tell me, Michael! I knew you were sick—I wanted you to let me in!" Laurie wept, a wave of tears coming down her face. She cautiously stopped as Michael did, but held her knife out as a warning. "I wanted to save you from _this_ , but you avoided it..." she paused, shaking her head. "I would've loved you still! I would have helped you! None of this would have happened the way it did if you just told me how you felt, what was bothering you!" Her mind traveled back to the day of Michael's pained confession that he'd never finished; she was so close, but he panicked and shut her out. He had to let her in now, if he didn’t, she'd surely know he was dead, asleep, or at peace where he had been left forty years prior.

The shape stood, its mind buzzing painfully as it spun. The entity felt dizzy. In a fit of confusion, he raised his knife, unable to shut out all the images and voices in his head. Never had it felt such resistance, such _feeling_ after four decades. It darted ahead, grabbing Laurie's arm and running its knife harshly along it, carving a sharp line down the middle.

Laurie screamed, her free hand grabbing onto Michael's shoulder to squeeze it in agony. She was losing too much blood, too much blood and too fast. Her hand lifted and she moaned in discomfort as she gave the shape's back a hard slash, not stopping until it ran along flesh like it had hers. Laurie was able to breathe again once Michael backed away from her, but she noticed a feeling of dimness fill her. No, she thought, she had to finish.

* * *

"I need to get Allyson!" Karen cried into John's chest, avoiding the sight of the battle in fear she'd see Laurie or Allyson's bodies departed. It had already been taxing enough to lose Ray to her father, confront the man who was her true father, and now lose her own daughter and possibly mother. The week had seemed like an eternity of curses.

John cringed, he could no longer see Laurie or Michael. They could have been fighting still, Michael could have hurt Laurie and come back for Allyson. "Your mother wouldn't let her get hurt," he nervously hummed, "she'll do this. I always told her she could if she set herself to it."

Karen arched a brow and lifted herself to look at him. "You told her to do it when you were still with us? Why?" she whispered in disbelief, finding herself more of a fool for never catching on.

"I didn't want to lie to you," the man confessed, resting his wounded head to the wall. "You deserved to know who Michael was, even if you could never see him." John exhaled, recalling the nearly forty-decade former marriage. "I knew she was hurting, I just knew it was going to ruin her down the road. That's why I had to leave."

"That was the last thing I needed. I needed you. Why didn't you save me?" Karen inquired. She shifted, trying for the moment to avoid a situation she wanted so badly to control but couldn't.

"Your mother needed to reform herself. I couldn't save her, no one could, so I had to force her to realize she had a child that needed to be raised. I just never knew she'd do what she had to you," John mused. His foot tapped the wooden the floor and his gaze went back to the allusive door, wondering if it was a fight or a concrete battle. Her power couldn't be wasted on actions, it had to be channeled through words.

* * *

"We loved each other! We loved each other so much, but I let our actions end it all because I felt guilty, Michael! I started something that could never be more than what should have been!" she cried, backing away from the shape. Michael wasn't there, he wasn't surfacing at her words. "I was pregnant with our child, I found out that same Halloween night!" Laurie bawled, recollecting Marion Chambers and Loomis by her bedside. "I was told to get rid of her! She'd be a reminder, she'd be ill! But I knew I wanted her no matter what would happen! She was the _last_ thing I could have of the boy I loved...that was you," Laurie choked, and her tear-soaked eyes widened as the shape backed away.

Its hands shook, one reaching forward then going back down. Michael was bursting at the seams. She was so close.

"Every night I was so scared about her! I wondered if I'd be a good enough mother, wondered if she was okay. I was ill when I had her. She saved me, though. The moment I saw her face, I fell in love with her. I loved her unconditionally, and I knew she had a dad. He was a sweet person who was just too ill to see her or know about her." Laurie's throat constricted and her cries became uncontrollable. She needed Michael to hear her and be roused by her words. "I raised her while I was in school. She was the sweetest. She had your eyes, your hair, but when she asked me if she had a daddy," Laurie shook, "I had to tell her he was gone. He couldn't be around." The woman walked forward with great hesitance, watching as the shape stood, stunned. "I wanted her to have a dad, she deserved one. So, I met this man, he loved her and I enough to help, but I lied to our daughter. I told her he was her father just to give her that happiness."

The shape stepped ahead but seemed to block her words and once again flipped the knife in his hand, the blade glistening in the moonlight. It went ahead, throwing the weapon down, but Laurie darted the impact and, in return, gave him another penetrating stab. It became frustrated, but its body was also pained and losing vigor. Laurie wasn't an easy victim. She was the only one who could win against him.

Laurie frowned as the figure grunted. It was like watching a slow-motion suicide. Michael, too, was losing blood, but she couldn't let him continue to stab her. She gave a painful moan and moved faster than he could thrust his knife. "I ruined her life after he left us! I thought overdosing on drugs would solve my issues, but it made me an awful mother! Karen was scared to death. I prepared all the time for this thing to come, and she became scared of what overtook you."

He slowed, but still approached.

"I made her paranoid, scared, so much so that Doctor Loomis took her away from me and gave her to a new family!"

The shape absorbed the sentiment and it brought him to a stop. He stared ahead, but to the other's surprise backed away, the buzzing becoming worse. It took another step back and nearly dropped its knife in defeat. The voice inside had become too loud. The voice _begged_ for Laurie to live and run away, for their daughter and granddaughter to run far away and let him die for all he'd done. He needed to die for what he'd done to his one love.

Laurie approached, her heart sprinting with every step. She desired this so desperately to be the light that could save him from his imprisoned vessel. "Michael?" she probed with hopes that this was the end. She kept inching forward until there was no longer much space between them. Her eyes observed his blank. It was as if someone hit pause on the evil within, she assumed Michael did. She cleared her throat with optimism. "Michael, I need you to listen to me. I want you to know—"

The shape erratically refused. It gazed to the woman close to him and found no sense of longing, no sense of passion or regret like it had wanted to. It gripped the knife without trepidation and before Laurie could comprehend it, the blade ran clean through her chest, nearly missing her sternum and heart. Her eyes were mere windows to her pain and shock. She desperately gripped him as her head laid on his chest. The woman became weary and near defeat upon the penetrating wound.

Laurie could barely process how fast it happened. Her sight and mind became fuzzy and all she heard was an echo of a scream. All around was a bottomless aching and her energy was depleted. She was giving up; she was dying. Laurie noted a copper taste come up her throat and run into her mouth. The woman leaned over to spit it out but was forced to recollect what she was presently doing.

Allyson gaped, staring at the body now surrendering like she feared it would, and quivered, having to restrain herself from running out and grabbing Laurie before the damage was permanent. It was obvious Laurie was losing, but so was Michael—to the killer within. Both were reaching toward each other, but there was too strong of a barrier. Her fingers dug into the cold dirt and attempted to take deep breaths before collapsing in panic. She watched Laurie back away and regain what consciousness she had left. She still had a fighting chance.

The blonde gulped and made no attempt to move away from the shape, she knew this was the bitter end. She shakily moved an arm to her mouth to wipe away the blood, but Michael stood like a statue in his position of power. She pondered if there was any feeling of remorse sinking in. Laurie sniffled and moved away, her breaths slow and weak. "Karen got the life she deserved. I-I married again. To someone I didn't love...the rest of the time I kept thinking of you." She gasped for air, clutching her chest. "I never stopped loving you. I just wish I could have saved you." Laurie gave a slight smile, both her eyes clouding in tears. "I'm sorry for leaving you for dead with this, Michael. I wish it were all different, I could have told you about our child, I could have helped you, but I was selfish with my own feelings. But the love never left."

The shape grunted, it's motive suddenly shifting, and it came to find it was losing to her just as it had before. It couldn't do a thing to dissuade love. Love was the savior and it was far superior than ignorance or despondency. It reached out, knife in hand once last time, but it was far too weak. It went forward then felt the piercing twinge of a knife in his chest.

 _His_ chest. He was now dying, as was she, but he could now breathe the freshest of air he ever had. Michael sharply inhaled and his legs fell in defeat as the warm blood seeped through his chest, liberating him. He wasn't in pain. He was free and guaranteed to not lay a finger on his family, the family he wished he could have known. Michael looked over and his vision began to darken, but he saw Laurie kneel next to him.

The woman sighed, throwing her knife to the side. She looked to the mask and found he was staring at her, but these dying eyes held more color and life than they had living. Laurie felt one last spark in her. This was him, this was him and she could feel it. Her hand lifted and gently touched the latex mask. She led her fingers to the back of the mask and found the fold that closed the disguise. She desperately grabbed it, and slowly slid it off the face it guised. Laurie gulped and tossed the facade aside, looking down to see a face that was not ugly nor drained of its humanity, it was just tired. Despite the blood, despite everything, it was him.

She gave a smile and her hands reached forward to cup his pale cheeks, but her consciousness was fleeting and so was his. Laurie gave a final breath of relief and fell next to the man, embracing the aura she missed so much. Her eyes went to the sky and closed contently, but before she let herself fade away, she felt Michael's hand enfold hers tightly, and she smiled. This wasn't the ending she expected, but it was a perfect one nonetheless. Her hand gripped his in return and the once young lovers bid their farewell.

They were at peace now.

Allyson watched paralyzed and though a deep sadness filled her, it was beautiful. They were both gone, gone from this world and onto the next, but together now. She continued to sob and weakly pulled herself from under the bush and contemplated running for her mom and John, but she wanted to see for herself. The teen attempted to see through her blurred vision and ran toward the two lifeless figures. Her feet never stopped until she was staring directly at the two. She leaned down and lifted her arm to harshly wipe her tears away.

Laurie was _smiling_ and she looked the happiest Allyson had ever seen her. The girl's lips parted, and she felt another hot tear fall. This was all she had wanted and more: to have Michael back. She sniffled and looked to the man nervously, but that was what shocked her the most. He was human. He appeared content and passionate, like a kind soul. This man wasn't a killer nor was he a monster, just someone who suffered and fell in love. Allyson leaned forward, this wasn't even Michael Myers—this was her grandfather. Her bottom lip trembled, and she took a step back. They were holding hands. It was enough to bring her to her knees.

Allyson's head hung and she sat herself before the two in both awe and sorrow. She was happy for both, she only wished she could have kept her grandmother and perhaps even gotten a chance to know her own blood. The girl heard two sets of frantic footsteps behind her and she turned.


	14. Stepping Back

"Allyson," Karen gasped, running forward to scoop her daughter into her arms. She knew something was bound to happen, but she couldn't have fathomed what was before her. She held the girl's head to her chest and shut her eyes, thanking the heavens she made it out alive, but it became apparent two didn't. Karen averted her attention to the limp bodies in front of her. Her eyes widened, followed by her heart sinking. The woman removed herself from Allyson and stared at Laurie's closed eyes. She was dead, gone from them, and released from her torment. She stood and weakly walked to her mother's lifeless form, then felt a harsh tug.

"Mom," she croaked, her hand rushing to rest on the woman's cheek. "Mom!" she cried desperately. Karen shook her head in refusal and held onto Laurie's shoulders, shaking them as if she'd rouse from the jolt, but she was already gone. Laurie's eyes may have been indefinitely shut, but she was happy. Every part of her was.

Laurie was free from all her demons and guaranteed her family was safe from the killer. Karen glanced to her mother's hand, laced in Michael's, and her stomach flipped, the inconceivable now a reality. Karen looked back to her mom and clenched her eyes shut, begging herself to cry, but they weren't the tears she'd anticipated.

The woman laid a hand on her mom's head and leaned down, pressing her forehead against it to give her a last goodbye. She silently thanked Laurie for all she'd done to protect her, and willingly came to peace with the fact Michael was her blood, that Laurie's love for him was everything to her, and that she was the product of their love. She could now live with this fact and accept it for what it was because Michael, underneath the concealing mask, was a person just as her. Karen had refused it, but she, at last, understood she had a real father and he was a loving human that struggled to fight his demons, just as Laurie had.

Karen lifted herself, John and Allyson silently watching. Her heart skipped a beat once her gaze shifted to the man on the ground. She deeply inhaled and made her way to his side to see the face of her own father, and it was nothing like she'd expected. Karen believed she was looking at a new person, not the boogeyman she'd practiced ten years of her life to defend herself against. This was a man, the man Laurie fell in love with and she cupped a hand over her mouth, giving a loud sob as she inspected his features. She was similar to him; he fit her like a puzzle piece she'd been missing her whole life. Reaching forward, her hand hovered above his cheek and, once she determined she could continue, rested the flesh of her hand to his almost tenderly.

As she had with Laurie, Karen leaned forward and closed her eyes, quietly expressing her sentiments to the man below her. There should have been hate or resentment, but she simply understood Michael was not a killer by choice—it was a force that lead him to self-destruction. Karen mentally apologized to him for making him an enemy in her mind and expressed her wish to know him from the beginning of her life. Her, Laurie, and Michael would've been better off in life if they'd just had each other. In the end, Laurie would've been happier and there would have been no loneliness to exist within, Karen would've had Michael as her father her whole life rather than have a father for merely a few years of her life, and Michael could've found happiness in both of them, enough to keep him from falling where he had. The woman kept her hand to the man's cool cheek and gave a silent prayer for both of them. If they couldn't have each other in this life, they would in another.

John watched from a distance, but he understood. He wanted to be pained, but he couldn't, because Laurie was more content than she had ever been. This was what she'd wanted all along, even throughout their marriage. John loved Laurie, but she had a true love and it wasn't him. What made the man happier, though, was that Karen finally knew and had just a glimpse of who she was. If there were any hesitation to believe Michael Myers and the killer within weren't the same, it was now erased. Karen stood and turned to the two, fresh tears still stinging her pale cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Karen..."

Karen nodded weakly, walking forward to rest her head on John's shoulder. "I never even got to say a word to him."

"Yeah, but you told him who you were. He listened," John assured, wrapping an arm around Karen comfortingly. "Michael knew who you were. He-"

"Already knew," Allyson interrupted softly, feeling obliged to share what only her and Laurie knew. She watched as her mother turned to face her, scrunching her brows in confusion. "Grandmother found out...his Doctor. Doctor Sartain told him he had a daughter in 1988, when you were only eight, mom." Her fingers fidgeted with her jean pocket for comfort. "He mentioned you to get a reaction, and it was the first time he got one out of Michael." Allyson gave a pout, putting her head down slightly. "He loved you and grandmother...but he couldn't escape, mom."

Karen gaped but had she attempted to say something, nothing would've come out. She felt her throat constrict and the truth made her weak. She was weakened by a combination of sadness, frustration, but especially a deep feeling of yearning for Michael, to have a chance again if anything could have changed. But what had occurred was set in stone, and it was a beautiful ending for the two tortured souls. Her parents were in a better place.

"Take it easy," John cooed, holding Karen reassuringly. He could see all the cogs in her mind spin, though the one thing he knew was the sentiment meant more to her than anything he or Laurie could have said. The man looked to Allyson then back to the scene before them. "Let me get help." He pat Karen's shoulder before heading inside the house.

Allyson stood in silence with Karen, wondering what her mother was thinking. "Mom?"

The blonde-brunette looked back to her daughter in tears and nodded her head. "I-I'm fine, hon."

"But?" the teen inquired, upset.

"It's just...your grandmother. How she was able to do all the things she did, yet make it look so easy. I never thought she did right by me, but I was so selfish." Karen shook her head and held a hand to her mouth, remembering all the times Laurie brushed her hair and read her to sleep while internally she was corroding. "And-And the fact she just hid it from me. She could have told me who he was, but she wanted me to be happy even though she wasn't."

Allyson stood, drinking in her words, thinking of the right thing to say. Despite Michael existing in her life as a killer, she now understood Michael as her father. He was her answer to everything. The girl couldn't have fathomed the pain of knowing you're loved by a parent, but never being able to experience that love. "That wasn't your fault, though. How could you have known?"

For a moment, only the wind attempted to sing an answer.

"I could have seen her pain. I could have figured out why I knew Doctor Loomis or why I magically had a father years after I was born, but I made her my enemy because I didn't know why she was doing any of it." Karen looked away. "I just never knew there was a motive."

"She loved you, though. So did he." Allyson pleaded. "Grandmother's goals were to save you and save Michael if she could. In the end, she accomplished both." The girl gave her mother a smile, assuring Karen there was no longer a reason to feel empty.

The wail of police sirens halted further conversation and John returned to the yard where Allyson and Karen stood before the two limp bodies. He watched as the blinding blue and red painted every crevice of Karen's home.

There were two police men, one tall and lean and the other stocky, but both seemed intrigued. They approached the yard with caution, not believing Michael Myers was dead. The myth was that he was immortal, but they didn't know the story.

"Get away from the bodies!" commanded the taller man. He trudged ahead to the two forms and at first thought it was some joke, that these two were just normal people, but the evidence proved otherwise. By the normal, personable looking man, there was a discarded mask, and next to him was Laurie Strode.

"Jesus Christ, Andrews look at this!" the shorter exclaimed, nodding toward Michael's unmasked face and the lovers' interlocked hands. He sharply inhaled then turned back to the three in doubt, thinking of it as some gruesome joke. "What makes you think this is the Michael Myers and how do we know this wasn't staged?"

Karen was the first to speak. "It's him, we didn't fake this. We found them like this," she pleaded.

"Any proof?" Andrews asked grimly, not believing it for a second. The only thing that seemed authentic was Laurie Strode's death.

The woman stood, feeling as if she were losing the battle, but then she remembered: she was their proof. Karen cleared her throat uncertainly."I'm their daughter. Test me, do anything, but that is the truth. Laurie Strode is my mother and Michael Myers is my father."

The shorter cop's eyes widened and he stared back to Andrews, finding the disbelief was shared. "Ma'am, are you under the influence?"

"For god's sake!" John interrupted, annoyed by their unprofessional inaction. "She's not lying! Laurie Strode was my former wife, that's my damn proof. I've known this for decades, officer." He stared the men down, hoping the night wouldn't continue to be wasted by standing before Michael and Laurie's bodies.

"Jesus," Andrews repeated, staring down at the bodies in disbelief. "So you're telling me Laurie Strode, sole survivor of Michael Myers, had his _child_?" He gulped and looked to the aggravated nodding of heads then to John, taking notice of the blood trickling down his head. "Well I'm going to get you an ambulance, sir. As for you ma'am, we're going to need to investigate. We need the whole story."

John was grabbed by the shorter man and led away from the site, but he ripped from the man's grip to look back to Allyson and Karen. "I have to stay here, sir."

Karen shook her head. "Dad, just go, you're hurt. I'll be with you after this is taken care of." She watched him process and he gave a final nod before being taken away by the officers. The woman sighed and she focused on Andrews, who was making a call for Michael and Laurie's bodies as well as mentioning 'a woman claiming to be his daughter.' "What are you doing with them?"

"Getting rid of them?" he replied anxiously. The man's tongue ran along his lip, rudely reminded Michael and Laurie were her parents. "But I assume they'd be going to you. We'll discuss that later," he muttered, glancing back to the two bodies for a double take. "You're going to need to come with me for a bit. I think we all have a hell of a lot of questions about this mess."

Allyson looked to another set of blinking lights coming toward their home. Once the truck stopped, they had stretchers and were ready to take her grandmother and Michael. Her heart sank as they ran toward the sight and she felt the need to do the two one last favor. She dug her hand into her pocket, shuffling around for a thick piece of film. The girl desperately grabbed it and went toward the two limp bodies before the paramedics reached them. Allyson looked to their two interlocked hands and she glanced back down to the photo she was holding, where both Michael and Laurie were young, smiling, and in love. She sniffled and felt her eyes dampen, but was quick to slide the image into the linked hands so it could be theirs forever.

Allyson cried, for it truly was the end. When she woke up, there would be no more Laurie, and Michael Myers would be gone from their lives for good.

Karen watched the sight with teary eyes and felt Allyson grab onto her, hugging her tightly. She wrapped a firm arm around the girl and gave a pained sob. The woman looked back to the officer and it was only a few minutes later she and Allyson were being escorted for extensive questioning. She was sure it wouldn't be long until Haddonfield, even the world, knew the entire truth.


	15. New Life (Tomorrow)

**_November 8th, 2018_ **

_Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed—in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."_

Allyson listened to the strum of words, but her mind was far from the seat she sat in. She should have been in the moment, securing any inch of hope, but she was centered on three people only: Laurie, Michael, and her father. There she sat in a cold church with her mother, John, and other family she knew to say their final goodbyes to Ray, but she couldn't say goodbye to her father. It had been two days since the death of Laurie and Michael and every moment after was oddly slow, as if she refused they were dead. She'd forgotten her father had passed until she saw his pale face and it hit her like a ton of bricks. Reality was sad and it didn't seem like some happy ending, yet she kept convincing herself it was and that Laurie was okay now.

As for the future, their new life, they couldn't continue it in the home they used to share with Ray and the home Laurie and Michael bid their farewell. Haddonfield, to Allyson and Karen, was just a reminder now. They needed to move on, but it was certain they would never forget. They'd remember it all, but in better spirits upon knowing Michael and Laurie parted without malice. Both Allyson and her mother had gotten to know John and he wanted to stay with them for good. Karen needed his support and so did Allyson, hence it was decided they'd move away from the town with John and live in Chicago, away from the mess of Haddonfield. They'd never return save for visiting Laurie, Ray, or Michael.

Unsurprisingly, Allyson and Karen's names were widely known now, just as Laurie's and Michael's were. Not even twenty-four hours had passed before it was on every news outlet there was some "tragic love story" between Strode and Myers. Classmates that once smiled at Allyson looked at her in shock, as if they couldn't believe who she really was. They had to have seen her face on the news or read the whole story, but the truth was she was still the same. The teen knew she couldn't do a thing to dissuade others that she was human, just as them.

Karen resigned as a child psychologist, fearing she'd just be labeled the daughter of a killer. She already was. It was her who became an overnight star with masses of attention pivoted towards her. John, Allyson, and Karen had been approached by many podcasters, news reporters, journalists, and their photos and stories were in every newspaper along with Laurie and Michael's tale. There were a plethora of excerpts from 1978 papers when the attack had first occurred and what was Haddonfield history was once again in the spotlight.

Their story was national, and Karen was the figure of interest, but she knew nothing the public wanted to know. Everybody wanted to hear some engrossing tale about Michael being her father, about Michael and Laurie's love, but there was little left behind but records. Loomis' findings were shared with the public as well as Sartain's, but Allyson and Karen worked hard to stay away from anyone who wanted to "work" with them. They felt like some circus show, but they weren't, it was personal for them, something the public couldn't have understood. No documentary, article, or podcast could have displayed a superior image than the one they felt.

Karen watched as the service ploddingly concluded and she hung her head in defeat. She sat until everybody had gone, even Ray's family, because she knew they blamed her for all of it. Their formerly loving eyes were replaced with ice, as if to tell her Ray would have lived had he not gotten tangled up in her family. But how could she have known when all her life she'd been lied to?

"Karen?" John softly shook the woman's shoulder, interrupting her sorrowful convictions. "Are you alright?"

"I just," she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat, "can't convince anyone that it wasn't my fault." Karen shifted in her seat and wiped a tear from her face before it continued to sting her skin. "What if it was?" she breathed silently, her heart numbing at the thought.

The man shook his head. She reminded him of Laurie, someone that could never accept some things were simply out of her control. "It's not and it never will be. You're not responsible for your mother's past, you know that. Everybody wants a simple solution, doesn't mean it's the right one, though..." He frowned and his grip on her shoulder tightened, wishing Laurie could've been present to reiterate the message.

Allyson solemnly glanced ahead but grew aware there wasn't a single person in the building but them. She watched, but there was no hurry, so she lifted herself and walked toward the neat mahogany casket in ambivalence. The clack of her heeled shoes filled the commodious room and her eyes rested upon the sight of her father. She moved closer.

His pointed nose glowed in the white light from outside and he seemed troubled, something that didn't settle well with her. Laurie and Michael's faces were at rest in their lifeless state, but Ray looked as if he were still struggling from the moment he had been killed. Allyson couldn't help but imagine what Ray's last moments were at the hands of the masked entity. Suddenly she didn't want to think about it any longer.

The teen's hand delicately rested on the cool cheek of her father and once one tear broke free, they created a chain of tears. She wanted everyone back. Was it some grandiose plan for the universe to wipe away all she knew? Six people dead: Vicky, David, Ray, Cameron, Michael, and Laurie; she'd never be able to see or speak to them. All she had left was her near-broken mother and adoptive grandfather. "Daddy," she croaked, "please come back. Please." Allyson listened to the crack of her voice and barely registered it as her own; she didn't care about who she was anymore, though. She only prayed she could move ahead.

Allyson silently thanked John for suggesting it a bad idea that Michael and Laurie had a funeral as well—the public would have gone mad, and it would have caused more emotional stress. They did have a plan for the two, however. She inhaled and closed her eyes as she dipped down to give her father one last kiss. The girl prayed, just as Karen had, that he would find peace above, along with Laurie and Michael. She prayed every person she'd known, even Cameron, would be safer, happier.

Karen averted her eyes to Allyson and gloomed as she turned from the casket and to her with glassy eyes. She felt she had let her daughter down leaving her with no one. If this emptiness and isolation was what Laurie had felt forty years prior, she understood how she'd ended up with the issues she had. That was another matter that hurt, though: the lack of empathy she had for her mother after all she'd done. She stood and approached Allyson, sniffling.

"I know it hurts, sweetie," she whispered, pulling the girl's shorter figure into her arms. "But we're going to be okay now. Your father wanted you to be safe, so did your grandma."

Allyson nodded, attempting not to smudge her mascara on her mom's jacket. "Are we going to Grandma next?"

"We'll finish packing up at home then we will. Tonight, we'll be in Chicago." Karen looked ahead and a wave of fatigue coursed through her, but she couldn't be tired yet. She had one last favor to give Michael and Laurie before she bid them farewell.

"Chicago," Allyson muttered sadly. She clung to her mother as she caught a final glimpse of her father's face. Never would they be the same. Something changed.

➣

It wasn't more than a few hours later until Allyson and Karen were on their way to their new home with boxes full of their belongings trailing behind. They didn't keep much because there was no need for it, they needed to start fresh and live without fear, for Laurie, for Ray, for all whose blood was spilled for their safety. It was the least they could do.

"Stop once you reach the sanitarium on the right," Karen instructed John. She kept her eyes peeled on the road and was waiting for the bold letters that indicated they were at Smith's Grove, the home of Michael and Laurie's beginnings. "Allyson, hand me the urns."

Allyson looked to the two marble urns and wanted to weep. It didn't feel right. She wanted to hug her grandma and feel her presence once more before letting go, she wanted to know where she was. The girl cautiously handed her mother both seemingly heavy urns and contemplated whether she should leave the car with her and offer her support. Allyson hadn't a clue how her mother felt nor what she was feeling, for it was her who was bound to Michael and Laurie. Her mom had to carry it all, just as Laurie had.

"Park here, I have to walk ahead." Karen carefully cradled the two pieces of marble and turned her head to find the exact spot she wanted. She wanted to return Michael and Laurie to some place they both knew, some place they had history in. It wouldn't have felt right to not take them where they belonged. It was her duty as their daughter.

"Mom, I'll go with you," Allyson spoke, stiffly removing her seat belt as if it were to break, as if Karen were to break from the slightest sound. She shifted her weight off the seat and opened the door with hesitance.

Karen stood to the side, watching as Allyson shut the car door with caution and followed closely behind. She cleared her throat as to suppress the lump forming and the tears pending.

Allyson gazed ahead, taking time to observe the aged bricks of the sanitarium and the dying flowers that withered with the approaching winter. She glanced toward the rusty ramp that laid behind a sign directing visitors to the entrance. The girl turned her head to the right, looking ahead to the yard surrounded by patient's windows. The floor was checkered patterns of red and white and a few tables were lined around the perimeter, but it seemed the place did not amount to it's former glory. It was old, it was sad, but Allyson could close her eyes and just picture times where it was green and colorful, where people smiled and had hope for a new day. She could even see Laurie. She could see Michael. She could see them smiling in the light of the sun and taking solace in one another.

"I think it's over there," Karen mused, pointing ahead for Allyson to follow. She was nervous for reasons she did not know, but was eager to see it all. She'd tried to picture what Allyson had, but it seemed her imagination failed her; she promised herself all she needed to see was the garden that laid ahead, then she'd know.

The blonde nodded and followed where her mom was pointing. Allyson wondered what she'd see and if it would paint a clearer picture.

The two seemed to walk faster and Karen held the urns tighter, as if promising them they'd be home soon. They only slowed once they reached the path gently covered on trees and, curiously, flourishing florals. Both glanced to each other with an assuring stare before venturing into the hidden world ahead.

Karen took the first step and gazed to the trees, attempting to paint an image of her mother heading down the same path with Michael. She held her breath as she exited the trees, then she found it. Something filled the emptiness of tragedy and the woman begged herself to take a deep breath of the clean, sweet air of the paradise of flowers and greenery. This was the place. She didn't need to see it to know it was Laurie and Michael's because every part of it was alive with spirit, she wondered if they'd already made it here.

"This is...this is it, Mom," Allyson beamed, her smile growing. She, too, felt the energy of the concealed paradise. The girl walked ahead, looking to the grass then to a lonely stone bench along the path and she felt her eyes dampen. "Did they make it?"

The woman nodded, "I know they did, I can feel it." She gave a sad smile and hoped Laurie was watching, just to know she was happy and so was Allyson. Karen hoped Michael was watching as well, so he knew he would never be far from Laurie and that his ending was meant to be fulfilling as well. She looked to a patch of bluebells and around it was beds of thriving soil and grass; that was where they'd be, they were to thrive as well.

"Right there?" Allyson inquired, inspecting the space her mom stood before.

Karen nodded confidently and looked to the marble pieces in her arms. She smiled and carefully handed her daughter one of them, Laurie's. "I think right here is perfect." The woman sipped in the wonder of the space and put her hand to the lid of the light container, Michael's. She looked to Allyson who readied Laurie as well and gave a nod, ready to give the two the ending they deserved.

Both opened the lids and let the wind guide the scattered spirits together and to the life of the garden, their garden. Once they became whole, together, they were welcomed into their home and the universe hummed in satisfaction.

Karen watched and let a tear fall. She was happy, and there was no doubt they were too. Her and Allyson were going to make it and Laurie and Michael would be there to watch it and smile upon them along with Ray and all lost friends.

Allyson wrapped her arms around Karen and looked to the blue petals, finding herself crying tears of happiness, relief. It was now that the best times were to come, and life would find its glow again. Whether they were in Chicago, Haddonfield, or anywhere they chose, they were never going to move forward alone or with fear. Everything would be right there.

"Ready to go?"

The teen nodded, holding her mom tighter. "I'm ready."

➣

_There was a light._

A white light, one that was pure and didn't surrender to darkness. It never left, but it strangely began to dim, as if something set it free to coat the vast world outside of its cage. Once dimmed, the light morphed into the orange glow of the sun and warmed all under it. The glow coated every sight in an unearthly fashion and shone into the eyes so much that not a thing could be seen. It was heavenly, though, like everything was at peace. There was no sound nor was there any interruption to the silent comfort brought by the light. If one focused, though, they would find it was not a light, but it was a hall.

A small gasp escaped the blonde teen, whose back faced the heavy glow. She blinked, then once more, until she could make out the features of the hall. The girl knew she was somewhere, but she didn't know who she was or what was happening; it was as if she was awakening from a deep slumber. She struggled and squinted her eyes, begging herself to snap out of the blinding light that bound her consciousness, then she saw more. The teen noticed the many doors lined up and down the walls and the green paint that adorned them, but she was still disoriented. The blonde felt dazed, though not lost—she belonged here. She looked to the clock above her and noted it was evening and the sun was setting, not rising.

The cycle continued until the girl felt something roll down her cheek. It was a tear.

Her eyes widened and she watched the droplet as it sparkled. She knew this feeling like the back of her hand, she could never forget it. She needed to see a calendar, though, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. But if this was what she thought it was... The teen slowly turned her body despite the heavy feeling it held. She kept her eyes glued to the glossy floor before daring to lift her head from the weight of her unconsciousness, and once she did, a surge of familiarity and longing filled her. Her arms coated themselves with goosebumps.

It was Michael, standing in front of his door, the door that read A-2201. The door she went to nearly everyday.

Laurie gaped upon the sight and couldn't tell if it was real. The girl knew who she was now and where she was, but with it came the knowledge of the past, or what was the future. She tilted her head and pulled her leg forward, taking a few slow steps before observing. It was his face, the youthful face she'd loved so dearly, but it didn't make sense. This was forty years ago, she knew that, so why was it happening now? Laurie looked to her hands, then to her red and white stripped shirt, and came to the realization she, too, was no longer old—she was young, she was reverted back into the girl she was before darkness consumed it. She didn't know what to do. The girl knew it was October 27th and if she was correct, she would've been on her way to Annie's Monte-Carlo right now, never to see Michael again. If she had the same knowledge she had forty years in the supposed future, then it had to be a dream.

"Michael?" she whispered, walking forward again. She needed to know if this was real.

Michael looked at the pretty face before him like a mannequin. He stood, attempting to reclaim his consciousness from the luring light, then he nodded. He heard her and reached for her, the only light he needed. Michael grew aware of what this authentic illusion was and tried to make sense of it all, but there was no sense to be had. This was Laurie, forty years prior, the night she left. Michael believed this was only his imagination, but everything felt so real, and he could remember everything he left with.

Laurie gave a faint smile, careful to not prematurely believe in this apparition, and approached Michael until he was right in front of her. She would've wrapped her arms around him in joy, but she wasn't sure if she trusted her own senses. The girl held out her hand and watched as he followed suit, putting his hand to hers in anticipation. Laurie gulped and her features perked with a new light, for the feeling of his flesh against hers said it was anything but an illusion.

Michael jolted at the touch, feeling every intricacy of her gentle hand. He wanted to ask her so many things, but for all he knew he was dead and merely floating in his mind and memories. "Laurie?"

The girl gasped and ripped her hand from his, darting forward to wrap her arms around him. She shut her eyes and gave a cry of joy as she felt his warmth spread across her chest. It felt just like him and any sense of doubt she'd held vanished; she gave in to the new realm of uncertainty. Nothing made sense, but she had Michael and he was okay, he was himself and there was nothing that could make her leave, even if it was a dream. "I missed you, Michael."

The boy returned the tight embrace and gave a sad smile. He remembered how much he missed her, how much he needed her, but something told him this wasn't fake, that this was meant to happen. He never could have made such a genuine mirage. "I missed you, too," he assured, feeling joy rise from the girl he hadn't seen in so long. "Could you stay with me a while longer?" Michael whispered. The boy shut his eyes for a moment, and gingerly ran his hand along Laurie's back.

Laurie hummed contently, then nodded, pulling back to eagerly plant a soft kiss on his lips. "Whether we see tomorrow, or we stay here, I'm not leaving. Not again."

Michael held her closer. He gazed to the blue eyes full of life, and they began to fill him with life. She was a breath of fresh air; she was like an angel. "Tomorrow," he mused, "I'm scared of tomorrow."

Laurie leaned forward, her face dangerously close to his. "I'm not afraid of tomorrow. I'm afraid of never seeing you again...but I will. I'll be with you today, tomorrow. _I'll be with you, always._ "


End file.
